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Elise

By: luscioushoney69



Elise hated her job. Who would like working in a "correctional facility" (a.k.a "prison")? Being surrounded by inmates who were constantly shouting obscenities at her and exposing themselves every time she walked past their cells wasn't necessarily fun...


She was tired of it all. Young as she was (23), she felt as if she was in her 40s. She hated the stupid rules for working here, too. No makeup, no perfume, no push-up bras...can't look pretty for them, explained her superior. And why shouldn't she look pretty? It's not like she would dress like a slut and go parading in front of the cells of those animals. But even without makeup, perfume, push-up bras, etc. she was still harassed by the inmates. Who could blame them? Elise was a very attractive woman. She was 5'6, 140lbs (all sexy curves), 36D breasts, jet-black hair, green eyes, and flawless skin. Her uniform couldn't hide all that.

She was a correctional officer for 5 inmates. 4 were white, mostly middle-aged men who were serving time for crimes such as murder, grand larceny, child molestation, etc; and 1 was black, 27 years old, already serving 3 of his 5 years for 2nd degree murder. His name was James, and Elise always felt intimidated whenever she had to escort him to the showers. He was a big man, standing tall at 6'5, weighed about 240 lbs, and it was all muscle. Whenever she had to take him to the showers, and he was just wearing shorts, she couldn't help but stare at his muscled chest and arms. She felt so trivial next to him.

One day, she had to take James to the doctor in the facility for a routine checkup. When they were in the elevator alone, he "accidentally" pushed the emergency stop button. The elevator came to a halt in between floors. Elise, not knowing what had happened, started panicking. She called for help through her walkie-talkie, but all she could hear was static. "Oh my god, we're going to be stuck here! What if nobody finds us? What if the elevator plunges down and we'll be killed?" Elise was being irrational. James just waited patiently until she calmed down. "I think I know how to get us out, but you have to uncuff me," he said. "Are you sure?” Elise asked "Yeah...positive" He turned around and she uncuffed him. The handcuffs dropped to the floor and Elise bent over to pick them up. Suddenly she felt something hard pressing against her ass. She looked up and saw James grinning. "You know. I haven't been w/ a woman for a long time. how 'bout we have some fun before I start up the elevator?"

"You sick freak! No! Fix the elevator now!" Elise yelled and called "Help" on the walkie-talkie. He pushed her against the wall of the elevator "No baby, we're gonna have some fun... you think I don't notice how you stare at my body all the time? I know your pussy is aching for some black meat" She squirmed, but he was too strong. He held her against the wall with one hand, and started unbuttoning her shirt with the other. Elise started crying. She knew she was going to get raped, and nobody would help her. Once he got her shirt completely unbuttoned, he cupped her full breasts and started fondling them through her black lacy bra. Her breasts started responding to the fondling against her will, and James was soon tweaking her erect nipples. He stopped for a moment, and with his strong hand, tore the bra in two between the cups, releasing Elise's breasts. He moved his head down to her left breast and started licking around the nipple. When the breast glistened with his saliva, he moved to the next one. 

Then he started sucking on her nipples, alternating between one and the other, until Elise was moaning loud."Mmm...I love your tits baby," James said. He knew it was ok for him to let her go, and now he could work with two hands. With his mouth still on her nipple, he started unbuttoning her pants, and let them slide down to her ankles. He looked at the trimmed hair on her cunt through the thin material of her back lace panties. He traced his finger along the crotch of her panties feeling the wetness that was expanding into a big wet spot. Letting go of her breasts, he pulled her panties down to her ankles and forced her thighs apart. The sweet aroma of her pussy permeated the air in the elevator. He looked up at Elise. Beads of sweat were forming on her forehead and she was squeezing her breasts.

He licked his lips and pushed her thighs wider apart, spreading her pussy lips. He moved in closer and started licking her cunt, moving slowly from her cunt hole to her clit and all around her labia. When his mouth engulfed her clit, Elise started moaning loudly "Oh godd...mmm...that feels so good...oh yesss..." And when he plunged his tongue into her cunt hole, she climaxed, her muscles contracting around his tongue. He kept plunging his tongue in and out until her body stopped spasming. He knew his cock wasn't going to hold out much longer, so he moved her down to the floor so that she was on her hands and knees.

He pulled down his pants and boxers, letting his thick 9-1/2" hard cock out, and positioned himself behind her ass. He stroked his cock a couple of times and with one thrust, pushed the monster into her wet hole. Elise cried out, but pushed her ass into him, trying to fit all of him inside her. "Mmm...nice tight pussy baby...I like it...Spread your thighs a little more honey..." She did as he said, and he began to fuck her slowly at first, and then increasing the momentum until her breasts were heaving back and forth under her. He reached his hand down to her pussy and began rubbing her clit. "ooohh...ooohhhh...mmmmmm...oh yesss...fuck me with your big cock...mmm...harder..." she moaned.

In the midst of their fucking, the elevator suddenly started going up. "Oh fuck...,”James said, but continued fucking her tight cunt.

After their elevator fuck-session, James was put back in his cell, and Elise, claiming that she was raped, was not fired. Instead, whatever chance she got, she and James would fuck. Her job wasn't that boring after all. 

Elise



Everyone in this story is over eighteen. It is far and away my most ambitious work to date, tracing the metamorphosis of a young married woman from being a downtrodden wife, through a chance encounter, eventually into a spiral leading her into a world she had never dreamt of. I hope someone bothers to read it.

My story begins in the following way, but that is really only a 'preface.'

'Where's my dinner then?' was my greeting when Gerry, my husband of some eight years, walked in from work, failing to notice me, sat at the coffee table with tears rolling down my cheeks.

'There's stuff in the fridge,' I managed to say.

'You lazy fucking slut,' he yelled, and looked ready to hit me -- again. I knew he wouldn't be interested to know that I'd spent all afternoon in the hospital, where the oncologist had given my brother three months at best. Ever since poor Tim had fallen ill, I had been unable to concentrate on anything else, seeking only the comfort afforded me by my best friend Judith.

But Gerry was still there, glowering, red-faced, down at me, and when I made a valiant attempt to tell him about Tim, all he could say was, 'So that poofter brother of yours is more fucking important than being a wife to your husband -- is that it?'

'You insensitive fucking pig!' I screamed, finally losing it, and he punched me on the side of the head, sending me crashing across the coffee table, the glass on which shattered into a million pieces.

I picked myself up, dazed and groggy, and ran out into the street. Nice Mr Greensmith, from next door, who had obviously heard the commotion, came out of his door.

'What on earth's going on?' he asked, but without waiting for an answer, shepherded me into his front door, and sat me down on his overstuffed sofa.

PART ONE

A couple of months later, I was living with Judith, in her nice townhouse, sharing the rent, and 'getting a life' as they say. With Judith, I went out to parties, avoiding the advances of a flattering number of men, and steering well clear of Gerry, who tried to get in touch by telephone, email, and even by knocking on the door several times, to be told by Judith that I'd 'gone away.'

I changed my job, moving on from the office I had worked in as a secretary since before I was married, and landing a position as a receptionist at a hotel the other side of the city, close to the airport.

Engrossed in sorting out bookings one evening, I didn't hear anyone approaching, so was surprised when I looked up, into the weather-beaten face and piercing pale blue eyes of a tall, fifty-something, fit-looking guy, dressed in a lightweight fawn suit and open-necked blue shirt.

'Hello, Elizabeth,' he said, reading the embossed nameplate pinned to my white silk blouse, 'I hope you have a room for me?' His accent might have been South African, I thought, but wasn't very pronounced.

'Can I have your name, sir?' I asked.

'Oh, I have no reservation,' he said, 'but my name is Gordon Trimwell.'

I took his passport, and immediately discovered that he was, in fact, Sir Gordon Trimwell, with an address in Lanzarote, Canary Islands. Intrigued, I booked him into as good a room as we had available, ascertaining that he wanted to stay for three nights.

I didn't see him again that evening, but found myself thinking about the tall, distinguished gentleman as I went to sleep that night. I realised that I had been remarkably chaste for the last two months, in marked contrast to my previous life, when I had been fairly casual about sex, without ever being exactly promiscuous. For the first time in a long while, I masturbated myself gently to sleep, my fingers working their way around my growing clit, as moisture started to well up in my eager pussy.

My afternoon shift had barely started when Sir Gordon put in an appearance through the hotel's swing-doors. He was now dressed formally, in a beautifully-tailored dark grey suit with a white shirt and sobre striped tie. His shoes were highly polished, and when she shot his cuffs as he took his key from me, I saw a gold Rolex Oyster on his wrist.

'Elizabeth,' he said, 'Thank you. I see you remembered my room number -- you are most efficient.'

I must have coloured up when I thanked him for the compliment, because he smiled engagingly, and said, 'I didn't mean to embarrass you. Perhaps you could spare the time to have a drink with me when you finish work?'

Fraternising with guests was frowned upon by the hotel management, and my hesitation was only due to that, as my heart had skipped several beats at the prospect of sharing a moment or two with this elegant man.

'I...if you can give me time to change, we could go across the road, Sir Gordon.'

'We'll have none of the "sir" if you don't mind,' he said, smiling at my discomfiture, 'What time do you finish?'

'At ten,' I replied, 'I'll wait outside at twenty past, if that's OK'

'I'll look forward to that.' He obviously understood that I couldn't meet him in the hotel itself.

I was a bundle of nerves then, until my relief arrived, mercifully early, so that I had time to get ready. I thanked my lucky stars that I had been too lunch with Judith before my shift began, so had dressed up more than was usual for coming to work.. I slipped out of my hotel uniiform skirt and blouse, and zipped myself into the short summer dress I had come in. It was navy blue, with polka dots, and of a soft, silky material. Taking care with my make-up, I looked critically at my image in the dressing-room mirror, and liked what I saw. My long, black hair, released from the ponytail I employed in the hotel, seemed thicker and more lustrous since I had left Gerry, and my complexion clearer, though it my have been my imagination. Standing up, I did a twirl, and thought my slim form and long legs looked good. 'Hmmm,' I said aloud, looked at my watch and went out to see what fate had in store.

Sir Gordon was waiting for me, cream button-down shirt, chinos and mocassins, a light jacket slung over his shoulder. He took my arm, and steered me across to a cocktail bar over the road.

As soon as we were sat down at a corner table, both with martinis, he smiled, and said, 'I knew I was right about you, Elizabeth.'

'Oh?'

'I somehow knew you would be staggeringly beautiful once out of that uniform.'

I looked into his eyes for some sort of humour, but was met with his piercing gaze -- deadly serious.

'I...I...'

'Don't deny it,' he said, 'You know you are remarkably lovely, don't you, Elizabeth?'

'I don't know, but please call me Liz,' I said.

'I think not. I shall call you Elise, though, I think.'

'That sounds nice.'

He asked me if I was married, and when I replied that I was separated, he said, 'Ah, but you still wear a ring?'

I slipped the gold band from my finger. 'There!' It seemed a natural thing to do, but he was leaning towards me, and suddenly reached out and took my hand.

'I have often been accused of being too direct, my dear,' he said, 'but I hope you don't mind me saying that I should like to make love to you.'

I suppose I could have, should have, walked out there and then, or even slapped his face, at least been outraged, but I meekly downcast my eyes a little and heard myself saying, 'I'd like that -- very much.'

I led him back across the road, to the tradesmen's entrance, and we sneaked unseen up the service lift to his room. As soon as we were in his room, he took me in his arms and kissed me deeply, our tongues searching, probing, as he fondled my buttocks through the thin material of my dress. I reached down, felt the hard bulge in his trousers, and fought to release his zipper, then had to struggle again to drag a lovely, stiff cock over the waistband of his boxers. He moaned with pleasure when I had his rampant length in my hand, then it was the most natural thing in the world to drop to my knees, and take the very tip of his engorged weapon into my lips, licking the crown with my tongue.

'Oh yes, Elise!' he said, his hands in my hair, and I slid his entire length deep into my throat, having to fight not to gag as he drove in, fucking my mouth as I sucked.

'Oargh!' he yelled, and spurted copiously straight down my throat. I was scarcely a virgin, in any sense, but that was the very first time I had swallowed a load of cum -- and I could scarcely believe that I had not only wanted to, but had loved it.

I also loved that he didn't attempt to apologise, merely pulling me onto the bed, and saying, 'It will soon be your turn, my dear.'

'Can you?' I said, thinking of his age, and immediately wishing I hadn't said it.

But Sir Gordon smiled, and now sat beside me on the bed, said simply, 'Show yourself to me!'

Hesitantly, I moved back and lay against the pillows, pulled down my cream silk panties, slowly parted my legs and raised the hem of my skirt, then lifted my knees, never taking my eyes off his face. I parted my lips slightly, and let the very tip of my tongue slip out between my teeth.

'Spread your pussy for me,' he said, and I let a hand wander between my legs, a finger either side on my outer labia, gently parting them, so that he could get a tantalising glimpse of my damp, pink cunt.

'That's lovely,' he said, moving closer. At that moment, I wanted nothing more in the world than to feel that lovely cock I had so recently tasted inside of me.

But he had other ideas, and stroked the inside of my thighs with a tenderness I could scarcely believe, then his head was between my legs, and, before I knew it, his teeth were working on my clit, which he found unerringly. It responded immediately, growing hard as stone, then his tongue was plunging deep into the hot, wet depths of my eager cunt. I had my hands tangled in his hair as he fucked me with his tongue, and an orgasm welled up, then swept over me in a tidal wave so ferocious I almost blacked out. I must have screamed, because as he came up for air he looked at me quizzically, my own juices evident all over his chin and down his shirt-front.

'You needed that, didn't you?' he said, at length.

'Oh yes, but not as much as I want to feel you inside me, Gordon,' I told him, reaching down to find him quite prepared to penetrate me.

He was all too ready, and when his cock slid easily into my sopping vagina, I used ancient skills to tighten, then relax, my grip on him, heightening his pleasure as he rode me, pounding with long, long strokes, his balls slapping against my arse as he reached my depths, his hands at last finding and cupping my breasts, his lips finding mine, so that when his whole body eventually stiffened and he came with a great, shuddering sigh, our mouths were together in what felt like a seal of love. Seconds later, I came too -- it was unusual in the extreme for me to cum twice in such a short time.

Next day, I was eager to get to work, and had taken great care with my make-up and hair, butt was in for a huge, shattering disappointment. The first thing I saw when I checked the computer screen was that Sir Gordon Trimwell had checked out. I couldn't believe it! Was it something I had done wrong? Had I frightened him off? I was devastated.

But then, still in a daze, I went to put a key back in its cubby-hole, which was, coincidentally, next to the one Sir Gordon's key was residing in. And I saw it! An envelope, with 'Elise' written in a neat hand upon it.

I trembled as I opened it, then read his letter:-

My Dear Elise,

I am so sorry, but I have been summoned to an urgent meeting in Berlin today, and must then return to my office in Madrid to chair a meeting tomorrow.

However, I hope you are as anxious as I that our relationship will continue and flourish. I append my private email address, so that you may tell me when you next have at least two successive free days at your disposal. When this is known to me, I shall make sure that you are brought to me at my home -- that is, of course, if that meets with your approval.

Fondly,

Gordon.

He had added his email address, as promised, and I read and re-read the oddly formal note, smiling inanely to myself as I did so.

I looked at the desk diary where staff arrangements were displayed, and was soon on the mobile phone to my co-receptionist, Cheryl, and re-organising my next weekend, making use of a day I was owed too.

Then I emailed Sir Gordon, and told him, simply:-

'Of course I want to see you again. I am free the coming Sunday, Monday and Tuesday, if that helps. Looking forward to meeting again,

XXX Elise.

And it felt odd signing myself 'Elise.' Just what had I let myself in for?

I was going to find out. Half an hour later a message came back asking for my home address, and telling me to be ready to be picked up at seven on Sunday morning. 'Travel light,' was the instruction, and just wear a summer dress. I looked doubtfully at the grey skies outside.

When Sunday eventually came around, I was a bundle of nerves, but somehow managed to slip into a cotton sundress, despite the chilly morning, and picked up my bag, with jeans, underwear, tee-shirts, make-up and toiletries, as the doorbell rang right on the dot of seven. I had been too nervous to have any breakfast.

When I got to the door, a pretty blonde, with nice blue eyes, wearing a blue jump-suit, was standing there, and ushered me down the path to a waiting luxury car -- I thought it was a Lexus, where a young guy with longish black hair sat behind the wheel, and smiled at me as I approached. Darkened rear windows meant that I was unable to see the girl who already occupied the rear seat until I got in beside her, but then I saw that she was a slim, coffee-coloured beauty, clad, like the blonde who slid in behind me, in a blue jump-suit.

'I am Daphne,'said the blonde, 'and this is Maria. The driver's Jaime.'

Their fragrance filled the car, intoxicating me at such an early hour, and I hardly noticed the route we took, as they made small-talk, until we entered what appeared to be a private airfield. We sped across tarmac, and pulled up beside a small, sleek, jet aircraft.

In something of a daze, I allowed myself to be handed out of the car, and up the short staircase, into the 'plane. I was surprised to see Jaime climbing into the door at the front -- he was obviously the pilot as well as the chauffeur. He looked athletic, I thought.

I looked around me -- it was like no aircraft I had ever seen, with just a row of leather seats facing the rear, where a very comfortable-looking bed, covered in what looked like satin sheets, with lots of cushions, occupied the width of the fuselage.

'Sit down and strap in,' said Daphne, doing likewise, 'and Maria will fetch us a coffee, then as soon as we are up, we'll get some rest -- it's a four hour flight, and we've had an early start.'

Soon we taxied, lined up on the runway, and I felt the surge as we took off, and sipped coffee with the two girls in companionable silence. I sensed that our flight had levelled off, and the girls immediately unclipped their seatbelts and stood. I was amazed when both unzipped their jump-suits. They were both stark-naked, and I was having difficulty averting my eyes from Daphne's small, firm breasts, which sported extraordinarily puffy nipples. But they both pulled little white silk slips from an overhead locker and, with a soft whisper of material, dropped them down over slim bodies. Then Maria handed an identical one to me.

'Why don't you get comfortable?' she said, 'it's a long way.'

Hesitantly I unzipped my dress. It was a halter-necked sundress, so I wore no bra, and was left standing in my cotton panties, as I slipped the flimsy garment over my head.

By the time I had shrugged off my shoes, Daphne and Maria were already on either side of the bed, ensuring that I slid on between them, their heady scent enveloping me, the thrust of those fantastic nipples all-too obvious through the silk of the blonde's slip. I had never been attracted to my own sex, but there was, I had to admit to myself, something more than a little fascinating about Daphne. I found myself drawn to her, but tried hard to keep my eyes averted, as I drifted off into a doze.

A little turbulence must have awoken me, as I glanced at my watch and saw I'd only been slumbering for some forty minutes. Maria's leg was touching mine from behind, her long, lithe body close enough so that her breathing seemed to synchronise with mine. Meanwhile I watched Daphne stir, and found her smiling at me.

'Sir Gordon was right,' she said quietly, 'you are very beautiful, Elise.'

I reached the short distance and touched her hand. 'I think you are completely gorgeous,' I said, and meant it.

Unexpectedly, she quickly moved across, took my head in her hands and kissed me full on the lips, then drew away and looked into my eyes. Seeing that I wasn't offended, she offered her mouth to me again, and this time I opened my lips and let her push her tongue between my teeth. I gasped as I felt the rasp of a metal stud against my own tongue, and felt an involuntary start to seep between my legs.

My hands, with a life of their own, sought her amazing nipples, and kneaded them through the silk.

'Mmmm!' she murmured, as the tips of her nipples hardened even as I felt them, 'That's SO good!'

But what was this? Suddenly hands were stroking my thighs, sensitive long fingers hooking into the elastic of my panties, easing them down. Maria had joined in!

I suppose I could have protested -- leapt off the bed, showed indignation, or something, but then Daphne was kissing me again, fondling my breasts under my slip, and I found myself smoothing a hand down the silkiness of her slip, finding her shaven mound, slipping fingers into her moistened pussy-lips, and locating the waiting, eager nub of her clit. She moaned now, as the flesh grew under my fingers, and when I slid down further, her cunt was wet with her juices -- as wet as mine had already become.

My panties were around my knees now, and I made no attempt to resist when Maria eased my legs apart, then I knew, for the very first time in my life, the delicious sensation of a girl's sensitive tongue, lapping my crack, questing, delving into the depths of my cunt, then flicking at my prominent clitoris.

Desperately, we shuffled around, sliding on the satin sheets, until Daphne could reach Maria's pussy, then, with busy tongues and fingers, we brought each other to a climax I would never have believed.

After we had lain, exhausted, for a while, I started to explain that it was the first Lesbian experience for me, but both girls laughed, and Daphne said, 'No big deal, Elise -- but was it good?'

'It was fantastic,' I replied, truthfully.

I must have dozed for a while, because in what seemed like no time at all, Marie ws handing me my dress, and saying, 'Come on, strap yourself in, we're coming in to land.'

A car similar to the one I had been in a few short hours before was waiting, with a gorgeous young guy behind the wheel -- longish blond hair curling over the collar of his open-necked shirt. His blue eyes looked somehow familiar. He jumped out to greet us, and Daphne said, 'Elise, meet Greg Trimwell.'

My mouth must have dropped open, and his amused gaze fell upon me as his deep voice caressed me, 'Yes, you're right, Gordon's son!'

I had been wondering seriously if my real destiny was to become an out-and-out Lesbian, after my experiences on the 'plane, but now I knew that was unlikely! I felt the sexually-charged atmosphere, as the two girls, now clad in short summer dresses and, as far as I could tell, not much else, sat on the back seat, while Greg looked pointedly at my bare knees as he started the car with me beside him.

We drove for some twenty minutes, through arid country, then arrived at a pair of electronic gates, which Greg opened with a clicker. We sailed through into a huge, park-like, green oasis, with a huge, rambling villa at its centre. When we drew up outside, a pretty Asian girl came to meet us, but Greg carried the small bag I had brought, and ushered me into a tiled hallway.




Elise



Stood there was an incredibly elegant woman, perhaps fifty years of age, slender, with shoulder-length brown hair, wearing a backless black cocktail dress, seamed black stockings and needle heels. She extended an immaculately manicured hand to me, and I saw that gold bracelets dangled loose ends from either wrist.

'Meet my mother, Elise,' said Greg.

More than a little surprised, I gasped, 'Your...er...mother?' Then, recovering, 'Er, Lady Trimwell, pleased to meet you.'

She smiled nicely. 'Sarah will do, darling. My husband has told me all about you -- he said you had great potential.'

Whatever was going on? What did she mean by 'potential?' But she was continuing.

'I trust you had an interesting flight?' The emphasis was on interesting.

'Yes, thank you, Sarah.

'Good, then I'll have Su-li show you your room. I'm sure we'll all have a nice few days.'

'Sir Gordon isn't here?' I wanted to know.

'He's gone to collect someone else who is to share our little house party. He'll be back in a short while.'

She clapped her hands and the smiling Asian girl came and led me away down a corridor. My mind was in a whirl as I followed the dainty Chinese girl along a seemingly endless passage. Sir Gordon had a wife! And she knew about me! Just what did she know? That I had fucked her husband? And a house party! What was this all about? If it was to be a party, whatever would I do for clothes? I had packed only a pair of jeans and some tee-shirts. Christ, what a situation!

Su-li at last opened a door, and showed me into an airy room overlooking an impeccable garden and a huge swimming pool, not currently being used, but looking most inviting in the hot sun.

She flung open a door leading, I thought, into an en-suite bathroom, but there was also a huge, mirrored, lobby lined with wardrobes, which Su-li slid open to reveal racks of clothes.

'Use anything you need,' she said, 'The master says everything should be your size.'

I looked on in amazement, as the Asian girl went on to say that lunch would be served in about an hour, and that she would put 'something suitable' out for me while I had a shower, if I wanted. I agreed readily, feeling almost shell-shocked.

I stripped off and dumped my dress and panties -- all I wore -- on the bed, while Su-li was rummaging through racks, then tip-toed past her and had a refreshing shower. When I got back to the bedroom, wrapped in a big towel, there was no sign of Su-li or my clothes. In their place was laid neatly a filmy white silk halter-necked dress, practically backless, with a short, pleated skirt. Beside it was a pair of white silk panties, and where my shoes had been, a pair of incredibly high, needle-heeled, white sandals. When I slipped into the dress, I saw an image of myself in the mirror that I could scarcely believe. Whether from just wearing the fabulous, silky dress I should never have been able to afford, or because of the excitement I had experienced that morning, my nipples jutted out noticeably through the loose, thin, white silk, and the pleated skirt was so filmy that I felt as if the slightest breeze would lift it and reveal my panties. I found a pair of long pendant silver ear-rings in a drawer, and took a lot of care over my make-up, then brushed my long black hair until it shone.

When I got to the big dining room, the first person I saw was Sir Gordon himself.

'Ah, there you are, Elise,' he said, 'I hope you had an interesting flight?' He smiled as he said this -- he knew perfectly well what had happened, in fact he had planned it, of course. 'I'm sorry I wasn't here to meet you, but I had to go to Teguise and collect Astrid, who is here on holiday. I know you'll like her.'

He led me away to one side of the room. 'I suppose some people would tthink us unconventional, but we have these house-parties from time to time, and our objective is pleasure. I think you will enjoy us.'

Without waiting for a reply -- which, in any case, I was far too tongue-tied to give -- he went on, 'In this house there are no servants -- everybody joins in, even if those who may be thought of as staff have their duties, I suppose, so I'll introduce you to Mario and Kiko, who look after the garden.'

Two absurdly handsome Spaniards, who had been sitting, unseen by me, at a corner table, jumped up to greet me.

'I believe you've already met Sarah, Greg, and, of course, Su-li?' he said, 'Then Astrid will be with us when she has changed, and that just about completes the gathering.'

I had scarcely time to take a glass of dry sherry from a tray before the Swedish girl walked in -- a willowy natural blonde, wearing a transparent black sheath, through which I could see a skimpy black lace bra and a pair of matching panties, tied at each side with red ribbons. A gold chain hung loosely about her slim waist, and she wore teetering black stilettos and a gold anklet. Her hair was braided into a single rope which hung down to her waist. When she came up to give me a brief embrace, she carried with her a whiff of flowery perfume.

'I love your dress,' she said, a Nordic accent obvious.

Before I had time to reply in kind, the room started to fill, and soon everyone was present.

Sir Gordon gave a brief clap of his hands.

'Welcome everyone,' he said, 'Now, for those who haven't been before, I'd like us to indulge in a custom we always adopt at these occasions. The kiss!'

What was that all about, I wondered, and he explained. 'Our habit is to kiss everyone we wish to kiss, sex notwithstanding. I need hardly say that male homosexuality has never formed a part of our gatherings, but I have, of course, no objections on that score either, should the desire arise.'

There was some laughter at that, but Sir Gordon simply took Astrid by the hand and whirled her around into a passionate embrace. I found myself seized by his son, Greg, who pulled me towards him, and locked his lips to mine, his tongue instantly pushing its way between my teeth, as I felt his growing hardness pressed against my belly, his hands clutching at my buttocks through two thin layers of silk. I gasped as his tongue came free.

'I want very much to fuck you,' he breathed. I nodded, and released him, as he tried to disguise the bulge in his trousers and whisked Su-li into his arms. I was making for Kiko, when I found my wrist grabbed, and looked around to see Sarah's elegant form, still dressed in the black cocktail dress. She smiled and said, 'I'd like very much to kiss you, Elise. I like to fuck all my husband's lovers.'

She tasted lovely, with a fragrant delicacy to her mouth no man could match, and her hands roamed over my breasts as she kissed me, little moaning sounds coming from deep in her throat. Up until that morning, I had never made love to a woman, then came Daphne and Maria, and now this! What was more, it felt like heaven to me -- what had I been missing? I knew that I just couldn't wait to make love to this older, elegant woman. But she had gently moved away, and I now found myself being fiercely kissed by a rampant Kiko -- I couldn't resist letting my hand stray down to the rigid rod that was tenting his bermudas. Suddenly he pulled away. 'No, you do that, I arrive!' he said, quaintly. I understood, though. After making sure that Sir Gordon took me in his arms, I realised I felt quite hungry, and was relieved when he set me gently aside, and announced that we should sit down to lunch.

After we had eaten, Sarah said we should all get some rest, as was the local custom. If we wanted to lay around the pool, she said, there was a good supply of sun-screen, and it would be quite alright to be naked there -- that was, in fact, what she herself planned to do.

As I soaked up the sub-tropical sun, I looked about me at the naked forms, lounging on sunbeds, and thought about how a few short hours had changed me -- or was it always there, lurking in my body? My pulse quickened at the sight of Astrid's slender body, her clean-shaven pubes showing a prominent mound as she lay reading a paperback, her small, firm breasts jutting upwards to the sky. And the fuller-breasted form of Maria, whose body I had so recently felt in intimate detail, or the mysterious curves of the mature but still beautiful Sarah, half-hidden from me behind a flowering shrub -- they all seemed more interesting, more exciting, than the admittedly muscular, fit-looking bodies of Mario and Greg, both of whom lay on beds close to mine, and kept favouring me with their smiles. Of Kiko, Sir Gordon, Su-li and Daphne, there was no sign, and I supposed they had chosen to take their siestas indoors.

I took a sly look at Mario, nonetheless, and knew that I was sure to be fucked by more than one man before my stay was over -- my foray into Lesbianism seemed to simply add another string to my bow. The thought, and the sexually-charged atmosphere, was making me damp, but I drifted off to sleep, exhausted after my morning's exertions.

I awoke to find Sarah, a silk robe draped carelessly around her shoulders, crouched by my side.

'I saw you stirring, my dear,' she said, and bent over to kiss me gently, bringing with her the heady perfume I had smelt before. She ran her hand down over my belly and I shuddered with pleasure as she brushed through the fine pubic hair that I kept trimmed there.

'Will you be offended if I get Su-li to shave you, darling?' she said, 'she's awfully good at it, and you don't want to be the odd one out, do you?'

I nodded wordlessly, and Sarah went off in search of Su-li.I minutes, she was back, and the Chinese girl, wearing just a short slip, led me, self-consciously naked, off into the house, and to my bathroom, where she had me sit on a low stool beside the bath. She soon found what she needed in cupboards, and set about lathering my whole pubic area, asking me to spread my legs wide and shuffle forward on the stool, so that she could work the foam right up and around my anus. Then she started with the razor, working carefully and thoroughly, with the utmost concentration, and removing every vestige of hair from my belly, my pussy lips, and right around my rectum. Once finished, she dried me off with a towel, and sat back on her haunches to admire her handiwork. Then she smoothede some kind of balm all over the area she had shaved, her fingers lingering around my pussy so that I asked he not to stop. She smiled up at me at that, and then slowly and deliberately lowered her head between my legs. Simultaneously, I felt her tongue probing between the lips of my pussy, as a long finger found its way slowly, ever so slowly, into the very portals of my arsehole.

'Oh, Su-li!' I gasped, 'that's just wonderful.'

My hands were stroking her silky black hair, effectively impelling her tongue deep into my cunt, and her finger now drove into my virgin anus, so that an irresistible orgasm welled up like a tropical storm, and overtook me with shattering force, as my whole body convulsed.

Su-li, without a word, got up and left me, her work complete. I was shaking with the power of my climax, and didn't calm down until I had lain on my bed for fully fifteen minutes.

I was a bit worried as to what to do next, but a knock on my door interrupted my concern.

'Come in!' I called. It was Sarah, still wearing just the skimpy silk robe.

'Let's have a look at you,' she smiled, and as she bent over, her fragrant presence enveloped me.

'Su-li's done a good job,' she said, stroking my belly, so that I had to control myself to avoid taking her long-nailed hand in mine as she did so, 'You'll feel much more sensual now, and you should try going without panties -- it makes you feel delightfully vulnerable, available, you know?'

I asked her what I should wear for dinner, as I knew it was getting late.

'You look lovely in white,' she said, 'And tonight we will all wear long dresses at dinner. I'm sure you'll find something sexy in the closet.' With that, she left, and I got up to start looking through the racks of dresses. There were lots of lovely gowns, but I could only find a couple of white ones, one of which looked as if it might be too big anyway. I wondered if my choice had been deliberately engineered, as I pulled out the dress I was going to put on. I had no doubts about it anyway, as it was a long white silk creation, with transparent panels from armpit to hem on either side, so that it would be perfectly obvious that I wore no underwear. When I slipped it over my head in a whisper of silk, reached behind and did up the zip, I looked in the mirror, and felt the beginning of narcissistic arousal. As an afterthought, I lifted the hem and clipped a gilt chain loosely around my waist. When the dress fell back into place, the links could be seen through the transparent panel. I brushed my hair carefully, clipped in a pair of long, chain, gold ear-rings and stepped into white stiletto sandals. Then, on another afterthought, I took off the shoes, and rolled on a pair of lace-top hold-up white stockings before slipping back into my sandals. The combination of the stockings and the lack of underwear would, I thought, be devastating.

I had hoped to create a big impression when I walked into the dining room, but I soon realised I had competition!

Astrid, the slender Nordic blonde, was standing there holding a champagne flute. Earlier, she had worn a black sheath dress over bra and panties, now she wore only a black sheath! It was, like my dress, floor-length, so tight around her knees she could scarcely walk, flared slightly at the hem. Her small breasts were entirely visible through the transparent material, which shaded to translucency as it reached her pubis. But as she turned to put her glass down, I could see that her dress was wholly transparent where it covered her naked buttocks. I felt almost upstaged.

Daphne too was taking a drink, and was dressed in something that looked like a harem suit, in a very thin, transparent material, patterned with flowers which did little to disguise her charms. No sooner had I greeted Daphne than her friend Maria showed up, wearing white, like me, but hers was a loose, backless gown, the bodice of which allowed her breasts to bounce and jiggle prettily as she approached. When she spun around to show off her dress, the back barely covered the crack between her buttocks, and her jet-black hair shone as it fell in cascades to her waist.

Suddenly Sarah appeared, as if from nowhere, clad in a navy-blue satin dress which covered her from neck to toe, with full sleeves, so tightly she seemed to have been poured into it. Her hair was gathered into a severe bob. She was accompanied by Su-li, who wore a black silk gown, open at the front to her navel, and slit from floor to waist in the back -- she was obviouly naked under that, I thought.

The men were all together, in dinner jackets, drinking around a laden table, looking across at us from time to time, as if to weigh up their prospects. Pretty good, I thought! I realised there were more people than before, and Sarah presented me casually to three swarthy guys, Pedro, Manuel and Luis, and three dark-eyed, olive-skinned young girls, whom she called Eva, Ana and Marta.

Sir Gordon wandered in casually, dressed in a white DJ, and tapped a glass for attention.

'As you know by now, we try not to do too much work here, and I have engaged caterers to prepare our dinner. I hope you enjoy it, then we shall resort to dancing and a little fun.'

There was a murmur of assent, and we all took our places around a big table for an excellent meal, during which Sir Gordon came up behind me and bent down to peak softly in my ear.

'Elise, my dear, I suppose you must think I have abandoned you, after inviting you here, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Whatever happens during the evening -- and I'm sure you'll find much pleasure -- I shall save myself for you, as I look forward to you sharing our bed tonight.'

'Our bed?' I asked, turning to look up at his handsome face.

'Yes,' he smiled, 'I know you'll find Sarah very...er..inventive. And I can scarcely wait to touch your lovely body once more.'

Just listening to him, and the memory of his rigid cock in my eager cunt was already making me wet, and I briefly worried in case I should stain my white dress, naked as I was under it.

I was surprisingly hungry, and enjoyed an excellent meal, then the table was swiftly cleared away, and music was played, the lights were dimmed, and we all danced, mainly slowly and smoochily, of course. After doing a sensuous slow-rock number with Maria, I was seized by Sir Gordon's son Greg, and just loved the feeling of his hard young body moulded against mine.

'I find you very attractive, Elise,' he whispered in my ear in his surprisingly deep voice.

'I can tell!' I breathed back at him, as I felt the thrust of his erection against my near-naked belly, and made no attempt to prevent him from caressing my buttocks through the thin silk. I parted my lips as he bent to kiss me, and took his questing tongue into my mouth, then reached down and stroked the insistent bulge in his trousers, causing him to pull away.

'N..no! I..I'll not be able to control...' he started, and I understood, taking him by the hand and leading him through the French doors out into the garden. There was to be no delay, and I led him around the back of a bush, pulled my dress up to my waist, and sank to the cool grass, spreading my legs and raising my knees as he fumbled with his zipper. Then he was between my legs, and with none of his father's finesse, he simply rammed his huge, stiff cock straight into me -- which was exactly what I needed at that moment. He pounded me mercilessly, his full young balls banging against my arse as his weapon reached the very depths of my willing cunt, then I gripped him with my agile muscles as he withdrew, sending him wild with passion. He let out a shuddering roar, and stiffened as he drove in one last time, and seemed to fill my whole body with his load of hot cum. I came convulsively at the same time, hardly believing that it was only a few short hours since my last orgasm at the hands -- and tongue -- of Su-li.

I scurried off to the toilet to try and make myself presentable, but nobody seemed to notice when I made my way back into the room, and I danced with an unexpectedly shy Kiko for a while, before the music stopped, the lights came on, and Sarah announced that we were to have 'a little game.'

She proceeded to go around the room with a carpetbag, from which she produced a black, elasticated blindfold for each person. She and Sir Gordon were obviously going to be spectators, as they were the only ones excluded as we obediently donned our very effective blindfolds. I found myself being led around the room until I had no idea which way I was facing, and, judging from the sounds, the same thing was happening to the other guests.

'Now, please,' said Sarah, 'I'd like each of you to undress. Gordon and I will collect your clothes from you in baskets we have ready.'

There was a bit of muttering, much giggling, and the rustle of clothing being shed, as I attended to the simple task of unzipping my dress, and shrugging it from my shoulders. I was naked save for my sandals and my gilt chain -- I didn't think that counted.

'OK,' Sarah's voice said, 'You all look wonderful. Now you each simply have to identify a person of the opposite sex, without any verbal contact on either side. When you are happy with your identification, whisper the name into the ear of your chosen victim, and if they are happy, you can take off your blindfolds and go and sit down together. What you do then is up to you! Those of you who can count....' -- she paused for laughter -- '...will have noticed that there are seven girls and only six men. The girl who fails to find herself a man will have to pay a forfeit. Right -- now, GO!'




Elise



There as a lot of giggling and barging around, and more than one person's hands stroked my arse, until I felt a strong, muscular body close up behind me, and a pair of large, quite rough hands cupped my breasts, but not without some delicacy. Breathing with some intensity seemed to resound in my ear, then came a hoarse whisper, 'You are Elise, I think.'

The Spanish accent meant that I wasn't sure which of the men it was, but I replied that he was correct. We whipped off the dense black blindfolds, blinked in the light, and went over, suddenly -- certainly in my case -- conscious of nakedness --to a sofa, and sat down close.

'How did you know it was me?' I wanted to know.

'I think your breasts are lovely,' he said, softly, 'I want to kiss your pezones.'

'Nipples?' I translated, tentatively, 'I'd like that.'

He needed no further invitation, and was soon sucking and biting at my engorged buds, whilst I found, as if by magic, that I had my hand encircling his quite enormous cock. I groaned at the pleasure his mouth was giving me, and felt his huge weapon grow even more in my hand. Looking down, I saw the angry redness of his glistening crown, and began to pump him slowly, so that he took his face away from my tits and moaned.

I could resist no longer, and bent into his lap to take him deep, deep into my mouth, feeling a gagging reflex I had to curb by pulling slightly out. Then I sucked his monster prick with all I had, until he jerked and came, in hot, spurting gushes, straight down my throat.

'I'm so sorry, Elise,' he said, i...I couldn't.....'

'Don't be silly,' I said, when I had swallowed all his musky cum, 'it was nice.'

I looked around and saw that other couples were engaged in similar pursuits around the room, but that Astrid, magnificent in her nakedness, was stood alone beside Sarah -- she was obviously the 'odd one out.'

A little later, I was again dressed, as were most of my colleagues, but Astrid remained splendidly naked, beside Sarah, who had led her to a low padded bench, and invited her to sit down. She then asked us all the draw up chairs into a little semicircle, where we could look straight at the Swedish beauty.

'I mentioned the forfeit,' Sarah said, 'and Astrid here has consented to play the game. She will now recount for you, I trust, her most intimate fantasy, whilst exposing her body to you all to add a kind of emphasis to her words. Right, my dear?' She stroked Astrid's long blond hair briefly, then came to sit beside us all.

Without hesitation, Astrid began, her English, like many young Swedes, near-perfect:-

'I am in the home of my mother and stepfather, a distinguished-looking man with slightly greying hair, around fifty years of age. He comes one night to my bedroom, whilst my mother is away visiting my sick grandmother, and I am sitting at my desk preparing a thesis for university.

"Can I help you, Astrid?" he asks, putting a hand on my shoulder, and when I look up at him, I see unmistakeable desire -- and something else, something I have never seen before -- in his eyes. I am fascinated, and don't want him to leave. 

"I...I don't know," I say, and notice that his fingers are playing with the strap of the silk slip which is all I am wearing.

"I think, my dear Astrid," he says, "that you have a need that I can assist you with."

"I don't know what you mean, Kurt," I say, but I do, I do. I sense what it is he has seen in me, what my needs are.

He lowers his voice half an octave. "I think you do know, Astrid." And his hand is now on my breast, pinching my nipple between thumb and forefinger.

"You're hurting me," I say.

"And that's what you really want, isn't it?" I nod dumbly. It is. What I want.

He stands back and extends a hand to me and I stand up and allow him to lead me out into the corridor, down to the bedroom he shares with my mother, redolent with her perfume. He throws a cushion onto the floor and orders me to kneel on it. I watch him go to the wardrobe where my mother keeps her riding gear, and, completely fascinated, see him take out a long, leather riding crop. I know then what he wants to do to me, and

also know that is what I must have. I let him pull the straps of my slip down from my shoulders and arrange my hair to fall down over my breasts. I look up at him expectantly.

"I'm going to hurt you now, my dear Astrid," he said, his voice full of passion, "It's what you want, isn't it?"

"Oh yes, Kurt. Hurt me, please," I said.

The crop fell across my naked back with a fierce, awful sting, and I writhed and moaned as it came again and again, until, after perhaps six terrible strokes, I felt a tremendous orgasm building within me."

I was watching the lovely blonde as she recounted this tale, which sounded more like a real account than a fantasy, and her hand was now between her legs, which had parted, so that we could all see that she was masturbating gently as she spoke. It was beginning to affect me too, despite recent events. She continued:-

Kurt said, "You are ready to climax, I think?"

"Yes."

"You will not cum until I tell you to!" he ordered.

"Oh, please, please!"

For answer he threw down the crop, grabbed my hair brutally and flung me across the bed.

"Spread your legs, slut!" he shouted, then, without further ado, drove his huge cock straight up my anus, tearing me terribly and hurting worse than the whip. He came instantly, in a huge, hot stream, not caring about me at all, but I orgasmed at the same time, so powerfully that I blacked out with its force, and when I came to, a few seconds later, the bed was drenched with my juices.

I bent over to the person next to me -- it happened to be Daphne -- and said, 'Was that a fantasy? Or do you think she was telling us a true story?'

'I don't know, but it's certainly made me horny!' she replied.

By now, Astrid was again wearing her black sheath -- if anything looking sexier than she had when naked, and Sarah thanked her for her account, then said to all of us: 'I think we'll just have a quiet drink now, everyone, then it's probably bedtime. A lot of you have had a long day, so we'll meet again at breakfast.'

We all helped ourselves to nightcaps from the ample supplies on a side table, then people started to drift off to their various rooms. Sir Gordon came over to me and extended a hand to help me out of my armchair, and I followed him meekly along the corridor, through a door at the end, and into a truly sumptuous bedroom. I glimpsed Astrid, arm linked with that of Sir Gordon's son Greg, disappearing into the room next door.

When Sir Gordon led me into the room, I saw that Sarah was sitting at a dressing table, brushing her hair, and beside her stood the slight figure of Su-li, now wearing a black silk slip. Sarah turned to me. 'Su-li is going to prepare you, my dear,' she said.

Prepare me? What was that all about? I was soon to find out, as the smiling Chinese girl led me through a door and into a huge bathroom. Wordlessly, she helped me out of my dress, and turned on the shower in a spacious cubicle. Satisfied with the temperature, she handed me a shower-cap, which I put on and stepped in, only to find the Su-li was in there, right behind me, without having bothered to remove her slip. There was something incredibly sensuous and erotic about the feel of wet silk against my back as the warm water cleansed me, an Su-li's hands were all over me, probing, cupping, teasing, as she soaped me, then rinsed me off.

She then dried me with big white towel, and led me over to a low padded massage bench, covered in towelling, and bade me lie down. Without drying herself off, she then proceeded to massage me from head to foot, with scented oils, before asking me to turn onto my belly. When I had done so, she gently eased my legs apart so that they were at each edge of the bench, then wriggled up between them, the damp silk of her slip still giving me aa tingle as it slid up and down my body. The next thing I knew, a hard, smooth object was being insinuated into the very portals of my anus. At first it was just a bit uncomfortable, and I suppose I flinched, but then she suddenly shoved the long thin dildo deep into my velvet tube. I screamed as I felt sure it was damaging me, but then she withdrew it equally quickly, and I felt instant relief. Slower this time, she wriggled the invading length deep within me, and now I started to feel not simply the pain, but a new sensation -- not quite pleasure, perhaps, but something that could become exciting. I squirmed as Su-li wriggled the dildo around in my rectum, and moaned, 'Oh, Su-li, please!'

I heard her chuckle then, as she removed the offending object, and then she slipped liightly from the bench. But before I could move, she was back, and this time she showed me what she had in her hand. My eyes widened as I saw the conical glass object, like a little Christmas tree, with a flange at its base, all smeared with some sort of gel.

'You're never going to stick that great thing in my arsehole!' I gulped.

'It will prepare you for more pleasure than you have ever known, Elise,' she said, knowingly, and climbed back between my legs.

Without further ado, I felt the tip of the glass plug start to work its way into my anus, then it felt as if I should surely be torn apart as its entire width was driven into me, filling me to bursting.

'Oh Christ!' I said, 'it's so huge!'

But Su-li wasn't finished, and pulled out the plug, causing a loud 'plop' as it came, and my arsehole to contract immediately. Then, easier this time, she slipped it in again. Pronouncing herself satisfied, she had me walk naked around the bathroom, the plug in place. It felt very awkward, but I couldn't resist looking at my rear in the bathroom mirror.

'It looks nice,' said Su-li, as she handed me a fur-trimmed sheer white baby-doll nightie, which, when I slipped into it, barely reached past my waist.

Su-li led me back to the bedroom, where Sarah, now clad in a long black silk nightgown, as elegant as ever, was stood by the bed, where Sir Gordon reclined, bare-chested, under a black satin sheet.

Sarah turned me around, and, having dismissed Su-li, with whom she exchanged a few words I didn't hear, said, 'I see she has prepared you, my dear. Come!'

She pulled me gently down onto the bed. I didn't know what was expected of me, and thought perhaps she was simply going to offer me to her husband, so I was surprised when she eased me into a 'sixty-nine' position with herself on top of me. She hitched up the hem of her gown so that I could smell, then taste, the fragrance of her moist cunt, which was decorated with a little amber pendant hanging from a silver ring through her clit. I pulled at it with my teeth, drawing a moan from her, which I matched as she lapped my eager, sopping crack, opening me with knowing fingers, until I felt a new sensation. She had deliberately spread my cunt so that Sir Gordon could enter me with his rampant phallus. He drove into me, to his full, prodigious length, two or three times, then promptly withdrew.

'Oh, please, please, don't stop!' I called out urgently, but Sarah was busy pulling out my plug, and I knew then what was in store for me. The glass cone slippeed out, leaving my anus feeling suddenly empty, but not for long! With savage,brutal force, and agony I couldn't begin to describe, I was transfixed by Sir Gordon's massive weapon, driving deep, deep, into my virgin arsehole, until I felt certain I was being torn into two. I screamed as he pounded me, first purely with the intense, unknown pain, but, after some strokes, a deep and abiding pleasure took over, and a huge, monstrous orgasm built, built, and swept over me in a tidal wave of ecstasy, as his mighty load of jism flooded my bowels.

Sarah cradled me in her arms, and I fell into a dreamless sleep.

I couldn't remember when I had last slept for ten hours without waking up, but that was the case. I awoke with a slight panic -- not knowing where I was, and with this new feeling in my body -- as if I had been violated, but had loved it. I lay still for a while, running over the events of the night before. I was wearing the unfamiliar baby-doll, and was partially covered by a luxurious satin sheet. I was masturbating myself close to orgasm, when the door opened, and Su-li came in with a breakfast tray.

Ashamed, I took my hand away from my pussy, and saw that Su-li was smiling.

'Sarah said you were stirring,' she said, ignoring what she knew I had been doing, 'so I brought you some breakfast. When you are ready, you are to come down to the pool.'

Later, I lounged naked beside the pool, having trotted down in just a towelling wrap, and found that nobody was wearing swimsuits. Sarah came to squat beside me.

'You were wonderful last night, darling.' Then she abruptly changed the subject: 'Listening to Astrid last night, Gordon and I wondered if that was really just a fantasy, or something that she had actually experienced -- it sounded so very real.'

'At least it sounded like something she very much wants,' I said, wondering briefly if I too might be excited by the idea of pain. At the time, it had given me a feeling I couldn't begin to describe, as I heard Astrid's silky voice describing the cruel whipping, and watched her fingering her pink, wet pussy as she spoke. Just thinking about it was again making me horny, and I confided this to Sarah.

'I know, darling, it has the same effect on me,' she said, trailing a long-nailed hand down my leg, which did nothing to ease my growing excitement.

'Gordon and I wondered if Astrid might like to be whipped this evening,' Sarah was saying, 'as a sort of alternative after-dinner entertainment.'

'I suppose you could ask her.'

At lunch, I saw Sir Gordon locked in earnest discussion with Astrid, then he announced that we should pass a restful afternoon, as the evening would be 'entertaining.' I assumed he had come to some sort of role-playing arrangement with Astrid - I could scarcely imagine that she would relish having real pain inflicted upon her. But when I went back over what she had told us the night before, I began to wonder.

The afternoon passed in a pleasant haze of dozing, swimming, wandering around scented gardens and chatting to all and sundry, then it was time to dress for dinner, and Sarah called for everyone's attention.

'The girls' dress-theme for this evening is short skirts, okay?'

That sounded simplle enough, I thought, as I returned to my room to get ready for what promised to be a good evening.

I chose a simple white ra-ra skirt, very short, and a gold-coloured silk blouse, buttoned up the back, very loose, with voluminous sleeves. It allowed my breasts plenty of freedom to jiggle as I walked, in what I knew to be a provocative way. No underwear was to be considered, I thought, given the libidinous atmosphere, and in fact, it felt lovely when I tried walking around my room, naked and clean-shaven under the tiny skirt.

'You look quite gorgeous,' said Daphne, when I walked into the dining room, 'let's go to bed now!'

I laughed and looked at her admiringly. She wore a blue silk off-the-shoulder dress, with no sign of a bra underneath. I could have accepted her offer willingly, and said so.

The other girls all looked similarly good, and the guys were tonight less formally attired, in slacks and open-necked shirts. We sat down to eat.

As we finished our coffees, Sir Gordon stood, and tapped a glass. His other hand was on the shoulder of Astrid, looking virginal in a white broderie anglaise minidress, with high neck and long sleeves. She was looking up at Sir Gordon as he spoke, something akin to adoration on her face.

'This evening,' he said, 'for our mutual entertainment, Astrid has consented to be tied up and whipped. Those of you who may be offended by the spectacle do not need to be present, but Astrid assures me that it is she who will derive the most pleasure from this.'

He looked around, as if seeking out dissenters, but, finding none, went on, 'Now, we should all have a drink, whilst Kiko and Mario will arrange the library for the purpose I have mentioned.'

Astrid seemed not in the least nervous about her forthcoming punishment, and was especially bright-eyed when Sarah told Su-li to 'take her out and prepare her.' She allowed the pretty Chinese girl, clad in a pleated print dress, to lead her from the room.

When we got up and went into the library, it was the first time I had seen the room, and at first thought it was enormous, but then realised that this was because all of the far wall consisted of a huge mirror. The two guys had set seats around in a semicircle opposite the mirror, and I noticed immediately a chain hanging down from a pulley attached to a roof-beam, one end culminating in a snap-link, the other wrapped around a cleat on a pillar.

After what seemed like a long time, but passed quite quickly as I was talking to Greg, who had placed himself beside me, the door opened and Sarah came in, walking with some difficulty in a knee-length black latex dress which couldn't have been tighter around her shapely legs. In her wake came Su-li, holding a leash, attached to which was a silver collar around Astrid's slender neck. She wore a diaphanous long white robe, open right down the front to display her complete nakedness, her arms free, and her wrists cuffed and joined together with a length of chain. Her lovely blond hair was braided into a single long rope, falling to her waist. She regarded us with an unreadable look which spoke perhaps of pride, disdain, and something else. Lust?

Sir Gordon stepped up to her and led her to a spot under the chain, then took her chin in his hand and kissed her passionately. He then raised her hands and clipped the chain joining her cuffs into the snap-link, unhooked the other end of the chain, and raised her hands until they were above head-height, so that she could only stand because of the extremely high heels she wore.

Next he unclipped the robe at her neck, so that it fell, with a soft whisper, to the floor.

'Sarah is going to whip you now, my dear,' he said, gently, 'it's what you want, isn't it?'

'Yes, sir,' replied the Swedish beauty.

'And she will hurt you, you know?'

'Yes, sir, I know. I want her to hurt me -- a lot.'

I was immediately struck by the realisation that this was a ritual to which they were not strangers -- that this room had seen other girls whipped, perhaps many.

Sarah had acquired a long leather whip, which she held furled, standing back patiently while Sir Gordon made the introduction, and now she stepped up to Astrid and stroked the pure, soft white flesh of her naked back, just briefly, then stepped away three paces. Astrid could see everything that was happening behind her by the simple expedient of looking in the big mirror in front of her, but showed no emotion as Sarah unwound the long whip, tried a swish through the air, and seemed to measure her distance. Again, I realised she was no novice at this.

Astrid was watching intently in the mirror as Sarah sent the long lash snaking through the warm air of the library, and I felt Greg tense beside me as, with a sharp 'crack' the narrow leather thong bit into the blonde's bare back, just below the shoulder-blades, the knotted tip just flicking the side of a firm, jutting breast, leaving a circular, red mark. Astrid didn't flinch a fraction of an inch, and, although her lips were slightly open, no sound came from them. She looked over her shoulder at her torturer with indifference, as Sarah prepared to strike again. This time, she seemed to put more force behind the stroke, which fell across both of the Swede's soft buttocks, leaving a clearly-defined red welt, and drawing the faintest of gasps from Astrid's mouth.




Elise



Greg's hand was on my bare thigh, and I could hear his breath accelerating as he observed the scene. The lash fell again and again, and I knew it would cause no lasting damage, but must have hurt terribly. I began to imagine the sting as each stroke fell on soft naked flesh, and realised that something akin to envy was building up in me, as was an incipient desire for the hard young body of Greg, whose hand was now making its way up under the hem of my skirt. I reciprocated, feeling for the hardness in his trousers -- I was far from disappointed, as he was rigid as a flagstaff.

As Astrid now squirmed with each stroke, writhing as the whip struck, in a manner which suggested something way, way beyond pain, Greg's hand had found its way into my crack.

'God, you're wet!' he said.

'Oh Greg, fuck me!' I replied, and quickly climbed across and straddled him, as he released a huge erection from its prison.

Looking over his shoulder, I could see that Astrid was in the throes of an orgasm -- there was no other possible explanation for her bucking, writhing and screaming, as Sarah had dropped her whip and was now holding the blonde's lovely body as if to save her from some other force. But Greg was inside me now, and could hold off only a very short time, as I rode him, controlling the strokes, until I knew he must cum. He stiffened, and shot an enormous load of hot spunk deep within me, and I was able to let my own long-awaited orgasm flow freely at the same time.

We were by no means the only people engaged in sexual activity, when I looked around, and it was a while before we were all cleaned up and presentable.

I was curious, and asked Astrid how she had felt.

Mysteriously, she replied that being whipped gave her a feeling of power, of dominance, and that no sexual pleasure, for her, was greater. I thought that rather odd, if strangely exciting, but made no comment.

After passing the rest of the evening quietly, I again slept well, and enjoyed a nice breakfast. It had been one hell of a weekend -- a life-changing experience -- but when Sir Gordon kissed me goodbye on the tarmac at Arrecife airport, I doubted I should ever see him again. The flight to England was uneventful, unaccompanied, as I was, and I dozed most of the time. It was raining when we landed.

PART TWO

Settling down to work, after a long weekend like that, was no easy matter, but I had no option, and had time to make up, anyway. I was more than a little surprised -- and immensely happy -- to learn that my brother's cancer had gone into remission, against all the odds.

I seemed to spend my every waking hour at the hotel for the next week, and wasn't really surprised when I received no word from Sir Gordon during that time. Yes, it had been great, but these things didn't last for ever, did they? It was in this philosophical mood that I returned after an exhausting day doing nothing, and flopped on the comfortable sofa in the lounge I shared with Judith Gold.

Judith was a nurse, and we seldom seemed to coincide, shift-working being what it is, but that day she was off work until later, and wandered in soon after me, wearing a tee-shirt and very brief shorts.

My recent trip had obviously had an effect on my attitude, because I was seeing my flatmate through new eyes -- and she looked gorgeous! Her short, neat, page-boy style hair had that peculiar shade of dark auburn which only Jewish girls seem to have, and her aquiline features were decorated by a pair of huge, liquid, very dark eyes, with extravagantly long lashes, whilst her wide mouth just asked to be kissed.

'You look knackered,' she said.

'I don't know why,' I replied, 'I guess I'm just bored.'

'Let's go have a drink,' she suggested, and I readily agreed, noticing for the first time that she had a neat coral stud in her tongue -- I wondered what it would be like to kiss her............

We walked companionably around to a local pub, and sat on stools beside a corner table, both drinking wine, talking about nothing in particular, until, somehow, the subject got around to my weekend in Lanzarote. I was, by now, a little embarrassed to detail all that had happened, but sketched out the general picture for her, without admitting my own part in the proceedings.

But Judith was neither naïve nor stupid, and put two and two together. 'And now you're back here in the humdrum world, eh?'

I looked into her lovely eyes, and nodded dumbly. Her hand was on my stockinged knee -- I was still wearing my short uniform-skirt -- and I looked down at it, but made no move to draw away from her electric touch. I looked back at her face, and saw a serious look come over her, and something I couldn't read. But, God, she was wonderful, I thought.

'You are very beautiful, Judith,' I managed to say.

'Come on,' she said, 'let's go to bed!'

There was, at that moment, nothing in the world I wanted more. I put one hand on hers, still on my knee, the other on her slender, shapely thigh.

'We can leave when you're ready,' I said.

As we walked back to the flat, hand-in-hand, I said, 'Didn't you have a boyfriend?'

'I've had a few,' she replied, 'but, well......you know.'

I thought I did. I could certainly understand now how a girl's touch, her understanding of female flesh, of feminine orgasm, was a positive substitute in many ways, even though the thrill of penetration by a stiff, rampant cock was something I wouldn't happily be without for long. And now that I knew the sheer exciting, pulsing sensation of anal sex...........

But for now, Judith's slim body was there to be explored, and I could scarcely wait to be naked with her, to investigate her with my tongue, have her own, studded, tongue explore me, and feel the joy I knew her long, artistic fingers could bring me.

Once in Judith's neat bedroom, menorah standing guard on a side-table, we undressed each other in breathless haste, with much fumbling at buttons and clasps, until we were naked, and knelt facing one another on the neatly-made double bed, just drinking in the sight of our bodies. She had small, firm breasts, topped with dark nipples, and she was, like me, clean-shaven. I noticed that she also had a pretty dangling triple chain hanging from a silver ring through her navel. Meanwhile she commented favourably on the fine gold waist-chain I had taken to wearing since my epic weekend in Lanzarote.

We squatted motionless, just looking, for a long moment, then Judith reached out a hand and touched her delicate, long-nailed finger-tips to my lips. I kissed them, and saw the desire in her beautiful eyes. I, in turn, reached out to her, and cupped a breast, then took a hard little nipple between my thumb and forefinger. Judith gave a tiny moan as her nipple grew under my touch, then able to resist no longer, I moved in and kissed her full lips, tasting her sweet breath as she opened her mouth and let her studded tongue roam at will around my own.

Our hands were busy, exploring, and, as I toyed with her little navel-decoration, I said, 'I just love your piercings.'

'You haven't seen the best one yet,' she replied, and, pulling away, sat back on her haunches, and parted her knees so that I could see the damp pinkness of he pussy, surrounded by the dark, inviting folds of her labia. But what she was showing me was a silver ring, from which dangled a pretty pendant encasing a glowing ruby -- or, at least, something red that looked like one.

'Look,' she said -- as if I could look anywhere else -- and she began to rub gently at the seat of the ring. It was immediately obvious that the piercing was directly through her prominent clitoris, which emerged from its protective hood like a small prick, as Judith's breathing quickened. Tentatively, I put my hand over hers, and took over the task of stimulating the growing bud.

'Oh, Liz,' she groaned, 'you can't know how much I've wanted this -- and for how long!'

Before I could frame a reply, her head was between my legs, and I felt the rasp of her studded tongue as she lapped the length of my crack, stimulating my own clit, then plunging that lovely tongue deep into my hot, wet cunt. Clumsily, I manoeuvred into a '69' position, so that I could lick her sweetness too, and, learning from my 'tutors' in Lanzarote, I wriggled first one, then two fingers into Judith's arsehole.

Moaning, loudly, she followed my lead, and I felt her own fingers penetrating me. I came immediately, and felt Judith shudder, then was drenched as she squirted her fluids

copiously over my face.

When we had had time to recover, side-by-side on her bed, we both laughed, but kissed some more, and were in danger of starting all over again when Judith sprang out of bed, opened a drawer, and showed me a huge, double-ended dildo.

'This is for next time,' she said.

'I can't wait, darling,' I replied.

'You should give serious thought to having yourself pierced,' she suggested, and I said that her example had already got me thinking that way. I asked her if it had hurt a lot, having her clit done.

'Oh, it hurt,' she said, 'but in a wonderful way.'

What, I thought, did she mean by that? I was well on the way to understanding the relationship between pain and pleasure -- the memory of Astrid's whipping playing like a video in my head. I mentioned it to Judith, and she said, 'Stop right there -- you're getting me all wet again, and I've got to go to work.'

A couple of days later Judith took me to what looked on the outside like a really seedy establishment -- a garishly-labelled 'Tattoo Shop' -- which was much neater once you got through the door. A Goth girl behind the counter, however, sported an amazing range of facial metal, and looked to have tattoos everywhere, but she seemed nice enough, obviously knew Judith, and ushered us through a door into a clean, quite clinical-looking office, with a lot of stainless steel on show. A woman in her fifties and a younger guy, both in white lab coats, were drinking coffee from paper cups. The woman greeted my companion warmly, and bade me sit down in what looked like a dentist's chair.

'So,' she said, in an unusually deep voice, 'Clit, navel and tongue, is it?'

Judith answered yes for me. I was more frightened than perhaps I should have been.

'Clit first, then,' said the woman, breezily, for which I was grateful -- it would be out of the way, then, I thought -- the one that scared me, of course.

As was now my habit, I wore no panties, and the woman smiled when she raised my short skirt and saw this, then placed my ankles in stirrups, as if I was in for a gyno exam.

She put on a pair of glasses, and looked closely at my exposed pussy, then used a latex-gloved hand to tug gently at my clitoris, humming softly to herself as she did so. Judith was watching, fascinatedly, and said, quietly, 'You'll look even lovelier with your ring there, darling!'

Her interest was all it took to start my juices moving, and the woman muttered something that sounded like approval, holding her hand out for her assistant to pass her some kind of instrument, which she palmed rather deftly, so that I was unable to see it. I felt the familiar growth of my clit, but then, suddenly, a pain so utterly, indescribably total, that I almost passed out, but I couldn't have said whether it was from the agony or from some awful ecstasy, as the sharp instrument penetrated my most tender, intimate part. It lasted hardly any time at all -- a bit of fiddling around, and the women straightened up, and had her assistant hand her a mirror. I was the proud possessor of a silver ring, about a centimetre in diameter, decorating my clitoris.

'That looks looks great!' said Judith, but the woman broke in: 'Don't be tempted into stimulation for four or five days,' she said, 'and no danglers just yet, either -- I know Judith likes them.' Judith coloured up at this, but the woman's attention had turned to my navel, and she showed me a catalogue, from which I chose a pretty silver double chain, with little baubles which would swing around nicely. A quick squirt of anaesthetic of some sort, and it was done, her attention turning to my tongue, into which I had a simple silver dumbell inserted.

Afterwards, Judith asked me how I felt.

'A little bit sore down below,' I replied, and my tongue feels very strange indeed, but I suppose I'll get used to it.'

'I love the feeling of my little pendant between my legs when I'm walking around in just a short skirt,' said my friend, 'and I'm sure you will too.'

I did, when the initial soreness wore off. Judith and I loved playing with each other, now that I had been pierced more than ever, and I know my tongue-stud gave her new sensations whenever I kissed her, sucked her hard nipples, or lapped her eager pussy, probing all her intimate places with my questing tongue. We played, too, with an assortment of toys, not just her double-ended dildo, but a set of connected balls we, giggling, bought at a grotty sex-shop. When Judith introduced these, one-by-one, into my anus, it was a real thrill, and even better as they popped out, widening my sphincter and giving me a wonderful sensation. But when she asked me, one evening, if there was anything I missed, I told her honestly that the feeling of a stiff, live, throbbing hot prick inside me, pounding hard, masterfully thrusting, then shooting a great load of steaming cum deep within me, was something that nothing else could replicate.

Judith fell silent, and I thought I had wounded her, but when I stroked her thigh tenderly, she said, 'Yes, darling, I know what you mean. But men are such bastards, aren't they?'

'I can hardly disagree, my love,' I said, thinking of how Sir Gordon had apparently abandoned me for the four or five weeks that had passed since that erotic weekend in Lanzarote.

Little did I realise that a surprise was awaiting me when I arrived at the hotel for work, the day after this exchange.

I smoothed my uniform skirt down over my thighs, and checked my appearance in the mirror just inside the revolving doors as I entered the hotel lobby, turned the corner towards Reception, and almost staggered in shock when I saw who was leaning against my desk, chatting to Derek, the guy I had come in to replace. It was Sir Gordon!

I fought to look unflustered, and said, 'Sir Gordon -- what a surprise!'

'Ah, Elise,' he said, smiling, as if he had spoken to me only an hour or two ago, 'You must forgive me for not being in touch.'

I glanced at young Derek, who was putting on his jacket and pretending not to hear. 'It's been almost two months,' I said quietly, reproachfully.

'I know,' he said, looking, I thought, downcast, 'and I can explain, if you'll allow me. If you are free to have dinner with me, I should be delighted.'

'I'll let you know,' I said, more coldly than I felt, 'I take it you are staying here?'

'Yes, I have my usual suite,' he said, 'and I'll be in by about seven.'

As Sir Gordon left, coat over his arm, Derek said, 'Go for it, girl!'

'Cheeky git!' I told him and tried to start checking the register on the computer, my head all of a whirl.

A part of me wanted to tell Sir Gordon to take a running jump, but the other, much stronger part remembered the feel of his vibrant, rigid cock, stretching my arsehole to and beyond its limits, the sheer erotic ambience of that wonderful weekend, when Astrid was whipped, while Sir Gordon's son fucked me, the dancing, the games, the clothes we all wore, my first Lesbian experiences....................

As I looked at the computer, the figures blurred, and I saw only that mansion in Lanzarote, then thought back to Judith, and suddenly found myself what she would make of it all.

In the end, I phoned her at the hospital, and found that she would be late home anyway, so, when Sir Gordon came in, I told him, trying not to appear too enthusiastic, that I should be pleased to accept his invitation to dinner, but that I should have to be in my uniform, as I had no change of clothing at the hotel.

The 'night-girl' was prompt at ten o'clock, and Sir Gordon picked up his bedside phone immediately. 'I'll be right down,' he said.

I had done my best to repair my make-up and hair, and felt fairly presentable in my pleated skirt and white silk blouse, from which I removed my name-badge, as we left to take a taxi.

He took me to a small, intimate bistro, where we sat on cane chairs at a corner table. He spoke not a word until we had ordered our food. Then he took my hand firmly in his.

'Elise, my dear,' he said, those piercing blue eyes drilling into my very soul, 'Life, I find, seldom runs a smooth course, and mine has been no exception, of late. As one who has also suffered a few upheavals, I am sure you will understand.'

'But you seem to be a person who has everything........money, family, an exciting life....' I ended lamely.

'And so it must have appeared.' He looked down at his plate as our salads came. 'But, as I say, things never run smoothly for long.' He looked to be deciding how to continue his story, then finally began to tell me. I began to listen, increasingly fascinated as his tale unfolded.

It seemed that he and the elegant, sophisticated Sarah had never been married, but had lived together for some ten years or more. She was -- as I had already guessed -- promiscuous, and had started a steamy affair with one of Sir Gordon's staff, Kiko, a darkly handsome young guy with whom I had shared a sexy dance. Quite suddenly, she had left with him, headed for Madrid, where she was well-connected, and had engaged the services of a sharp lawyer. The upshot of his was that Sir Gordon had been extremely fortunate to hold on to the property, but had lost a tremendous amount of money, and could no longer run to a huge staff, a private aeroplane, and so forth.

'So what are you going to do?' I asked.

'I have a plan,' he said, 'And I am here in England drumming up business, and backing, from specialist travel companies, as I shall do in other countries too. My idea is to develop a specialist holiday complex, using my property, for people bent on......pleasure.'

'Hmmm, sounds interesting!'

'It's what I do best,' he said, grinning, and looking suddenly twenty years younger.

'I can't argue with that, but tell me more.'

At that he got a little coy, and talked about 'pleasures of the flesh.'

'So what you're really proposing is a whorehouse in the sun?'

Now he looked put out. 'What do young people go to Club 18-30 for? Why Ibiza? Why do a lot of well-heeled Europeans spend their holidays in Bangkok? Or visit Amsterdam even?'

I knew the answer of course. 'Sex.'

'Exactly. And I'd like you to join me in this venture, Elise.'

'Me........but....'

'But you're in a relationship since Lanzarote, aren't you?'

'I....I have a friend, but how...?'

'I see you have had your tongue pierced -- and very erotic it looks too.' He smiled, 'Would I be right in thinking it's a young lady?'

I looked down at my plate.

'I can see I was right,' he said, then was silent, as we ate.

At length, he said, 'Your friend, what's her name?'

'Judith,' I told him, 'she's a nurse.'

'Do you have a photo?' I fished one out of my purse -- Judith smiling and happy, wearing a pretty flowered print dress.

'Could I meet her?'

Bloody hell! Strange request, or what?

'Er....well, I suppose so, if she wants,' I stammered, wondering how I should put that to Judith -- A guy who once fucked me wants to meet you! Yeah.

But he pressed on, 'I'll write her an invitation to dinner when you are both free -- what do you say?'

Frankly, I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded. After all, there was no harm in a free meal, was there?

'No need to write,' I said, no lover of formality, 'I'll just bring her along. But the difficulty will be both of us being off work at the same time.'




Elise



'Yes, I can see that,' he said, but then I remembered that we were, in fact, due to coincide in the next couple of days, and said so.

'See if you can fix it then,' he said, 'and I may well have an interesting proposition to put to you -- both of you.'

I was intrigued, but forgot that, and just about everything else, when, an hour later, we sneaked like thieves up the rear staircase to Sir Gordon's suite at the hotel. As soon as he had closed the door, he took me in his masculine arms, and felt for the first time my tongue-stud, grazing his own tongue, he kissed me hungrily.

'You know what I want,' he said, breathlessly. He couldn't have wanted it more than I did, and I threw a cushion onto the soft leather sofa, knelt on the carpet before it, and buried my head in the cushion. I was still wearing my pleated uniform skirt, over white stockings, held up by a skimpy satin suspender belt. I wore no panties, as had become my custom, and when I raised the hem of my skirt, right up to my waist, I knew that my long suspenders would frame an irresistible view of my naked buttocks. Easing my knees apart I reached behind me with both hands and spread my arse-cheeks to present a picture of my gaping anus, eager and waiting for Sir Gordon's rigid cock. He murmured to himself as he sank to his knees behind me, and I felt his fingers, delving deeply into my wet cunt, then sliding inexorably up towards my arsehole.

'Oh, Gordon, darling, take me!' I implored, 'Fuck my arsehole!'

My words had their instant effect, and the crown of his mighty weapon was soon forcing its passage into my velvet tunnel, where my peristaltic muscles gripped him and drove him wild.

'Elise, Elise!' he whispered, as he powered into me, 'I love you! Nobody has ever had this effect on me.'

His hands were cupping my breasts, fingers manipulating my already rock-hard nipples, as he pounded deep into my arsehole.

'Oh, please,' I yelled, 'Cum in me, cum in my arse!'

That did it! He shuddered violently, and shot a massive wad of hot spunk, deep within me. I came simultaneously, with an orgasm of an intensity that made me realise immediately what I had been missing, that there could be no real substitute for a hot, thick, cock, thrusting, pounding into my secret passage.

When I got home, I was glad that Judith was at work, and went straight to bed. But when I awoke late in the morning, she was there, stirring beside me in the big double bed we had taken to sharing.

Bleary-eyed, she looked at me. 'You were fucked last night,' she said simply, and before I could frame a reply, 'I can smell man on you, darling.'

'Oh, Judith, I....I...' Her finger was firmly on my lips.

'Shhh. I was trying to pluck up courage to tell you,' she said, 'I had a nice shag in the linen-store the other day, with the seriously gorgeous Doctor Baruwa. I guess we're both a bit "bi."'

We looked at each other and burst out laughing. 'You dirty cow!' I said.

'Filthy bitch!' she replied, and before I could think about it, we were in each other's arms, kissing, hands exploring familiar bodies. Somehow we ended up in '69' position, and lapped each other to gentle, loving climax.

'I love you,' said Judith.

'Me too,' I replied, then told her of Sir Gordon's intriguing invitation to dinner.

'A proposition?' she said, 'what's that all about?'

The next day I was eager to see Sir Gordon again -- perhaps even sneak up to his room once more -- but he told me during the afternoon that he had a dinner appointment with a likely sponsor. I told him that Judith would be happy to join us for dinner the following evening, and arranged to meet at the same bistro as last time, at eight-thirty.

I didn't know what to expect from the evening.

Next evening, I was pottering around, trying to decide what to wear, when Judith burst into my room, looking drop-dead gorgeous. Her hair was pinned up in a chinon, and she was wearing a dress of pale blue satin, with a plunging neckline that revealed the creamy flesh of her cleavage to perfection. The skirt was skin-tight, the hem, just above her knees, restricting her to short steps, which must have been made even more uncomfortable by the fact that her matching sandals had five-inch heels. She wore a lot of silver jewellery, long ear-rings and bracelets which jangled.

'You look a million dollars, darling,' I said.

'It wouldn't do to be outshone,' she said, and lifted up the filmy yellow Thai silk dress I had laid on the bed. 'If you're going to wear this, I'll need all the help I can get!'

The dress was short, with a flared skirt -- mid-thigh length, and its loose bodice buttoned up the back. When Judith had done it up for me, I saw the vague ouline of my breasts in the mirror, and knew they would jiggle enticingly as I walked. My favourite white, lace-top hold-ups, and some strappy sandals completed my outfit. I left my hair loose, and gave it a final brush as we waited for our taxi.

As we arrived, a surprise awaited me. Sir Gordon arose from his usual table in the corner, and beside him, smiling, was none other than his handsome son Greg, who did a very obvious double-take when his eyes lit on Judith.

I sat next to Sir Gordon on one side of the table, Judith and Greg opposite. Sir Gordon's hand was soon on my thigh, as we waited to order, finding its way quickly to my clean-shaven pussy, to toy with my clit-pendant -- I had to work hard not to gasp. But what was faintly amusing was that the extreme tightness of my friend's dress meant that there was no way Greg could reach her intimate parts under cover of the table-cloth. Knowingly, I smiled sweetly at Judith, and, with equal understanding, she returned my smile with a pout.

We talked about nothing and everything as we ate, but, as soon as we had finished, Sir Gordon, cradling a brandy-boat with both hand, cleared his throat and said, in a businesslike manner, 'I mentioned that I had a proposition to put to you both.' He looked up to see that he had our full attention. 'I should like you both to come and work for me at my new complex, 'The Eros Club.'

'B...but...' began Judith.

'I know, I know,' he said, 'you are a nurse, and that is precisely what I need. But not only are you a nurse, you are a stunningly attractive one.'

She coloured up at this, and looked about to chip in again.

Before she could, he said, 'It's not politically correct, I realise, of course, but since when was life all that PC? I need attractive women on my staff. You remember Astrid, Elise, don't you?'

How could I ever forget, I thought.

'Astrid is already on my payroll, and will take care of at least one aspect of the business.'

Judith was looking pensively at Sir Gordon, showing more interest than I had expected.

'So what's the deal?' she asked suddenly.

'The deal? I offer you a job at something like half as much again as you are currently getting paid.'

'What's the snag?'

He smiled. 'I don't blame you for being cautious, but there's no snag -- really.'

'So what do you want me for?' Still suspicious.

'To be our nurse, of course -- we'll have all the usual holiday complaints.' He turned to me, 'And you, my dear Elise, I'd like to put in charge of administration and bookings.'

It was Greg's turn to speak, and he said quietly, 'We hope that all the staff will find they have time on their hands, and that they will join in with the entertainment we will be offering.'

'So we'll be expected to do some whoring, as well?' said Judith, her voice a little harsh, I thought.

'No, no, no,' replied Sir Gordon, 'any -- shall we say -- 'extra-curricular activities' -- will be entirely at your own discretion, and, to set your minds at rest, if that is necessary, I am in the process of recruiting several girls, who have worked for high-class escort agencies and massage parlours, in Paris and Madrid.'

I could tell that Judith was still harbouring suspicion, but when Greg suggested she should go for a drink with him, she agreed readily, and I was left alone with Sir Gordon, still gently fingering my pussy under the tablecloth, which felt incredibly erotic.

'I've been meaning to ask you, Gordon, ' I said, breathing a little heavily as he tugged at the pendant dangling from my clit, 'what role, exactly, will Astrid play?'

'I'm putting her in charge of the entertainment package. But why do you ask?'

'She fascinates me.'

'Because she asked to be.........'

'To be whipped, yes.'

'And why does that fascinate you, Elise?'

'I don't know,' I replied truthfully, 'it's just very.......erotic, I think.'

'The concept of pain and pleasure?'

'Something like that.'

'You're very wet,' he said, withdrawing his hand, and raising it to my lips so that I may taste my juices on his fingers.

'Oh, Gordon,' I said, 'I want you -- NOW.'

'Wait!' he said, rather masterfully, I thought. He summoned the attentive Head Waiter, who scurried over, and they had a whispered conversation. Seconds later a waitress appeared, and beckoned to us to follow her, through a door and into a short corridor. She stood aside and allowed us to pass through a gloss-painted black door at the end, then closed it quietly behind us. We were in a softly-lit room which must have been where the restaurant manager slept after a particularly late night, I supposed, as there was an easy chair, a small television on a table, and a narrow bed.

Sir Gordon was wrestling off his jacket as I grabbed the waistband of his trousers and dragged him bodily towards the bed, as I fumbled with the fastenings. I was panting with pent-up need, as I released his engorged cock, and, not bothering to even attempt to undress, flung myself back on the bed, legs wide apart, my buttocks raised to welcome him. There was no trace of finesse -- all my need for foreplay had been more than satisfied in the restaurant -- and he simply impaled me brutally in one savage thrust of his great weapon. I couldn't say whether he fucked me, or I fucked him, but that we came simultaneously was sure, as he spurted hugely deep within me, letting out a bellow which I matched with a long, wild moan.

'Oh Gordon,' I said, later, 'I want to come and work for you, just so long as we can do that sometimes.'

And in the car, taking me home, he asked me if I thought Judith would come too. I thought so, I said.

As we were about to say goodnight, sat together in the car, he suddenly said, 'And that conversation about Astrid? Are you going to think some more about that?'

'You mean -- do I want to be whipped?'

'Yes.'

'Why, would you like to whip me, Gordon?' I smiled in the faint light from the dashboard.

He didn't reply directly, but said, 'Do you remember Astrid's lovely body -- and how much prettier it was when she had a few stripes?'

'Prettier isn't the word I'd choose, but I know what you mean -- I think,' I replied, hesitantly.

'Well, my dear Elise, your body is much lovelier than Astrid's......' He let the remark hang in the air. I pictured the Swedish blonde's writhing body, remembering how she had implored Sarah to whip her, how she had so obviously climaxed under the lash. I wondered if I could begin to understand why these images were so exciting, why I sensed a new direction that my life could take. I abhorred violence, had left a nasty marriage before it turned even worse, and now I was actually considering embracing some kind of ritual torture, something which could hurt me, give me pain. Somehow, though, it seemed quite different. But it needed a lot of thinking about.

'Penny for your thoughts?' said Sir Gordon.

'They're worth much more,' I said.

'Well, will you come and join us?'

'Yes, Gordon,' I heard myself say -- this time with no hesitation at all.

When I got indoors the place was in darkness. I as feeling tired, and went straight to bed, only to be awakened what seemed like minutes later when Judith slid in beside me.

'Sorry if I woke you, darling,' she said.

'Mmm, what time is it?' I asked, sleepily.

'Just after three,' she said, to my surprise.

'Get laid then?' I enquired.

'Oh yes,' she supplied, 'several times!'

'Dirty bitch!' I told her, but she was stroking my hair as I fell asleep.

The next morning, as neither of us was due in to work until afternoon, we got up late and sat a long time over coffee, neither of us at first wanting to talk about what was uppermost in both our minds.

Then I got up for more coffee, and, my back to Judith, said, 'Well, are you going to go, do you think?'

'Are you?'

'Yes, I think so.'

'Then so will I.'

We both handed in our resignations that afternoon. As it happened, we had identical situations -- a month's notice, but a couple of weeks' holiday entitlement owed to us, so we should both be free in a fortnight's time.

Judith got an email on her lap-top next day, from Greg, asking if she had made her mind up, and I told her to reply for both of us. Another message came straight back asking when we could start. We took our time over that, thinking we should need to buy clothes, but it was followed up by another email, which told us not to bother bringing anything except a few keepsakes, perhaps, as all the clothes, jewellery and cosmetics we could conceivably need would be provided.

Judith whistled at that, so I described for her the wardrobe I had been faced with on my visit. That set her off asking questions about the place, some of which I couldn't answer. I told her about Astrid, though, and she was intrigued.

'And you, Liz,' she said, 'Would you like being whipped?'

'I...I've never thought about it.'

'Oh, I'm sure you have,' she said, 'You may not remember, but you talked about it before, when we were going to have you pierced.'

I'd forgotten about that.

PART THREE

Tickets were waiting for us at the airport, and it was nice to find that we were booked first class, even though that only meant a tad more space, and free drinks.

When we arrived, it was simply a question of grabbing our bags from the overhead lockers, as we had both brought only carry-on luggage. In the event, all I had decided was worth bringing along was an album full of old photos, a framed shot of my brother Tim and I taken on holiday at Llandudno, my Ipod, full of an odd mixture of the music I loved -- Judith scornfully called it 'Mozart meets Dylan' -- and a few odds and ends of jewellery. My handbag contained basic make-up kit and my passport, but apart from that, the white broderie anglaise summer dress I wore was all I had in the world. And Judith was no better off. It felt good.

A smiling Greg met us at the barrier, grabbed both of our bags, despite our protests that they were no problem, and led us out to a new-looking minibus.

'This is for collecting the punters in,' he said, 'the first ones are due next week.'

When we arrived at the mansion, I was half expecting to see a huge neon sign declaring its new status as the 'Eros Club' -- but there was just a discrete plate beside the electronically-controlled gates, which opened smoothly as we approached.

When we entered the spacious lobby, Judith's eyes were like saucers, and she gasped in amazement when Su-li, who I was delighted to find still there, showed her to her room, adjacent to mine. Mine was the same one I had been lodged in on my brief visit a few weeks before, and I was happy to see that I was again to have the run of a well-stocked and sexy wardrobe. Judith had a very similar closet to mine, and I enjoyed seeing her pleasure, as she examined the range of clothes, shoes, and jewellery at her disposal. The only difference I noted was that we both had uniforms to wear, three identical sets in each case, in prominent places on our wardrobe-racks -- but what uniforms! Su-li hung around to show us them. Judith's nurse-outfit consisted of a simple white button-through dress, but was made of thin, silky material, and had been sized to fit her like a glove. Mid-thigh length, it moulded her slender body to perfection.

'I don't expect you'll be wearing anything underneath,' smiled the Asian girl, and I knew Judith wouldn't.

When it came to my own uniform, Su-li explained that all the staff would be wearing the same dress, which was a shade of lilac which reflected the decorations I had seen as we entered the club. The long-sleeved bodice was semi-transparent and zipped up the back, while the silky skirt was very short and flounced.

'We shall all wear a satin garter belt and lilac stockings under this,' Su-li said, 'and matching heels, of course.'

'Of course,' I said, a little ironically, then, 'Just how many people do we have?'

Su-li thought a moment. 'Judith will have an assistant, plus a masseur and a masseuse. Your staff, besides myself, will be two receptionists, a secretary, three stewardesses, cleaners as necessary, and two pool-attendants. Greg will control the male staff, and Astrid will have her entertainment people.'

'That's a whole lot of staff,' I commented.

'We've got a lot of bookings, as you'll see,' she said, 'but we'd better get moving -- Sir Gordon still likes us to dress for dinner, whilst we have no clients.' Then she added, for Judith's benefit, 'I'm sure you'll find a nice gown in your closet.'

'A gown!' said Judith, and I smiled, and told her that it was the custom to wear long dresses at dinner.

That she took this to heart was soon evident. After sounds of much rummaging around from her closet next door, she peeked around my door and I thought I had never seen her looking remotely this glamorous. She was clad in pink satin, a backless gown with a loose top, off-the-shoulder, so that her lovely breasts swung free, and partially visible from each flank. The long skirt trailed on the floor behind, and she wore a lot of silver bangles, which jangled as she moved.

She helped me choose the simplest of dresses for myself. It was a burgundy silk dress with spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline, which could just as easily have doubled as a nightgown. The material was so fine that my nipples stood out sharply, and it felt lovely against my skin.

When we arrived in the big dining hall, the first person I saw was Astrid, ever the exhibitionist, in a black lace sheath and obviously nothing else. The contrast with her white-blond hair was gorgeous. Su-li was at my shoulder, in a tight purple velvet dress.

'Who are they?' I asked, indicating a group of young girls, all identically clad in long white Indian cotton dresses.

'They are all junior staff,' she said, 'they don't have wardrobes like we do, of course.'

Sir Gordon walked in with his son, and all the girls' eyes seemed to follow them. But Sir Gordon came straight over to greet Judith and myself, and Greg was all over my friend. Taking advantage of their distraction, Sir Gordon said quietly to me, 'Come to my room after dinner, will you, my dear?'

'Yes, of course,' I said, feeling the thrill I always felt in his presence.

When, after what seemed an interminable meal, I went to Sir Gordon's spacious suite, he was waiting for me, having changed into a casual shirt and shorts.

'I am so pleased that you decided to come,' he said, 'and hope both you and Judith will be happy working here -- your duties will not be onerous, I can assure you.'

I smiled, not sure how to respond, but he went on, 'I know you are in love with Judith, and expect you will want to spend time together, but you do realise, don't you, that she and my son have a certain....er...mutual attraction?'

I nodded mutely.

'I hope that means you can spend a little time with me, my dear?'

'Oh Gordon, you know I want to be with you. Judith and I.............' I couldn't finish the sentence.

'I know,' he said, 'And you must know that Su-li shares my bed from time to time.'

That came as a surprise.




Elise and Harvey Barrios



Elise and I met at a college frat party during our senior year at State. She a Business major, me a Techie, we hit it off, and while the courtship wasn't exactly whirlwind, we did become a pretty hot item pretty quick. Two months after graduation we made it legal, and for the past sixteen years we've been as happy as could be: her, apparently, because she was getting what she wanted and needed, and me in my ignorance that she was getting what she wanted and needed; go figure. 

Elise is pretty. Five-eight, 120, tawny locks, bright green eyes, and possessed of the best personality to ever come along the pike if I'm any judge. Me, I'm Harvey Barrios. To keep things parallel here: I'm five seven, a tight 160, brown hair—thinning but mostly still with me, kinda quiet, with a talent for techno stuff.

Elise is a sales agent for Standard Auto Parts, a chain of stores moving the kinds of things the young and the restless males in the population need to customize their cars and turn them into girl getters.

I'm a civilian contractor; I work for our city's police department. I help keep 'em online and connected to the world. 

The two of us, Elise and I, do okay with our two incomes; we need 'em both to get on, but we don't worry too much about where our next meals are going to come from. We've no children; Elise as it turned out was barren. But, that has never been a problem for me, though I think it was for her in the early going. Nevertheless, we've adjusted, and things have been good, as I mentioned before. That is until now, this minute, since I caught her—them—some minutes ago.

******

I watched as donned his pants and loafers and gathered up the rest of his clothes before leisurely heading for the door. He sure was big. He clearly wasn't concerned at all about getting caught in the act. I'd heard her say his name just as I walked in on them—Harry. 

Elise stared at me from across the room. She'd finally covered her nakedness with a towel. The towel was only slightly better than nothing as I watched cum trailing down her leg all the way to her knee. The silence was, as they say, deafening.

"Harv? I hope you're okay?" she said, finally. I met her gaze.

"Are you serious? Well, I'm not okay." I said. She seemed a little—exasperated, maybe with herself.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," she said. "I thought you'd be gone two more days on your business trip. You weren't supposed to see us. But, I guess that's the breaks."

"The breaks! Is that all you've got to say! Yeah, well I guess that's right huh. How long?" I said.

"What's the difference?"

"Just tell me Elise, how long have you been fucking around on me?" I said. I don't know if I expected the truth or not, but I figured I had to ask the question. The answer I got stopped me cold. I had no doubt, at least, that it was the truth.

"Harvey, I love you and only you. "But, to answer your question, for the last fourteen years. Not with him of course, but others. He was just a two night stand, pretty useless actually, an unreconstructed loser sexually; it'd take a lot of work to get him where he needs to be as a decent lover, but he is good looking and he does have a sizable penis," she said. 

I could feel my face flush. I was near fainting: my blood pressure. I need—I need—water," I mumbled. Elise turned and headed for the kitchen. She didn't hurry; I thought that telling. Moments later, she returned with a glass of water and held it while I sipped.

"I've hurt you, but I suppose it was inevitable in the long run," she said. 

"Harvey, we can get by this. Okay? My extracurricular sex never compromised my love for you, and none of it was ever with anyone we knew; I wouldn't do that to you. 

"Harvey, I just needed more than—more than—well..."

"More than I could give you," I said, filling in the blanks for her. She looked away. She said nothing. "Well, I guess that says it all pretty good. Sixteen years and now it's over. All my love, all my commitment down the shitter." I was starting to tear up. And who the fuck wouldn't!

"No!" She said. Her vehemence startled me. "I'm committed to you too. All of my love is only for you. My blood pressure was beginning to subside some; I could actually feel it. "The sex, I mean with those others, was just to fill a need that I could not deny. Harvey, there is still an us if you want it.

"Actually, if you will give me a chance to explain, to convince you that what I have done is actually not a bad thing; well, we can be even better than before. I promise.

"I know I've hurt you, and maybe dented your ego pretty good; Hell, I know I have. But it is not by a long shot the end of us."

"Elise, you just said that I can't satisfy you. If that's true, and it had the ring of truth, how do you figure we can get by this? You want me to go without sex for the rest of my life, Elise? Is that what you expect? I mean if I can't satisfy you; then, why would you want to have sex with me at all," I said.

"Oh my goodness, Harvey Barrios, I have never denied you sex, and you know it. You can have me any time you want me. Any time! No restrictions," she said.

"No restrictions. You'd grant me mercy anytime I needed to get off. Is that it, Elise? Thanks ever so much." She realized her mistake, and her look showed it. She tried to regroup.

"No, no, that's not what I meant. It wouldn't be mercy sex, Harvey. Not at all. And you do satisfy me, just not in the same way those other men do. You fill a need in me that none of them can or ever could. 

"Look, I'm trying to get this all confessed and out in the open, Harvey, and I'm screwing up my words," she said. "Bottom line is I will be taking care of you! I will do my duty."

"Your duty? I'm a duty to you! Okay, Elise, explain, convince me. Go for it," I said. "Tell me why I should be your willing cuckold." 

I was sick to my stomach, but I wanted to get this done and over with. For my part, oddly, I still couldn't just up and tell her to get lost. In the end, I knew, that that was very likely what was going to happen, but I would listen to her. I loved her, that counted for a lot, and in the end outweighed even fourteen years of betrayal. Yes it did! She had, as she'd said, hurt me; but I was hoping against hope that she could convince me that we were still okay. That there was some way that I good get by that fourteen years of being stabbed in the back; I preayed that there might be a way.

"Harvey, as you no doubt noted, I have been screwing up my words something fierce tonight. It's late; we're both on edge and in a bad state. Would you allow me till morning to get my thoughts together?" she said. I nodded. I wanted to hear it all. And, since it was almost 11:00PM, I figured we could wait a few more hours.

"Thank you, Come on. Let's go to bed. I want to give you your first sloppy seconds," she said. The wan smile on her face was indecipherable. I stared at her like she was crazy.

"What," I said, exploding.

"Calm down, Harvey. Yes, sloppy seconds. You're gonna love 'em, and you're going to be getting them a lot. That I can promise you that." Now she laughed. 

I thought she was kidding; I hoped she was kidding; hell, I don't know what I was hoping or thinking. It was all surreal. "Actually, Harvey, it's kind of part of how I am going to convince you in the morning to be what you said: a willing cuckold. You just have to trust me. Okay? As my cuckold, my knowing cuckold, you will be getting a lot of attention from me, more than ever before."

I was not quite in a trance but almost. She'd turned and was sashaying up the stairs, the towel covering her ass was not doing a very good job of covering. My cock, all almost four inches of it, was harder than a rock. I followed.

She was still wearing the towel when I turned the corner into our bedroom. Take your clothes off, Harvey. I did as she said. I stood naked in front of the woman, my wife, who had just a little time before been cuckolding me with another man. How had she phrased it, oh yes, with a "two-night stand." She pointed to me without saying anything and traced a path in the air to the bed.

I got on the bed and lay down on my back. She dropped the towel. God she was pretty, I thought. I needed her so bad. But I also felt sick and maybe even a little bitter too, and shaky. I knew I was about to get a mercy fuck, and it killed my ego. But, it did not kill the stiffness of my cock. 

Positioning herself, she forced my legs apart with her knees and knelt between them. Taking my cock in her hand she stroked it a few times and smiled down at me. "You have a cute little dick, Harvey. I've always kinda liked it." 

She lowered herself to me. She took my stiffness into her mouth and sucked on it. She sucked slowly torturing me with her mouth. I came in a gusher; she swallowed almost all of it.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she gave me that same wan smile once again. "Now for the second round, mister man," she said.

She began jacking me off and after a few strokes, she tickled my balls noting with satisfaction that she was getting the near dead to rise again. She plopped down beside me on her back.

"Fuck me, Harvey, and don't be gentle about it," she said. "Get your sloppy seconds, and certainly not the last of them. I'm telling you that up front, dear husband." Her words angered me, but not enough to prevent me from plunging into her for all I was worth. 

I drilled her for a good five minutes before I came yet again. She didn't cum and, though I didn't realize it at that moment, it pretty much signaled the end of us: as a lover, I was no good to her. She was willing to do me because it was her duty, but the reality was I was next to useless to her in any real sense. 

I rolled over beside her on the bed. My thoughts were a jumble of humiliation, satisfaction, and flat out lust for the woman beside me.

"Thoughts?" she said.

"None for the moment," I lied.

"Did you like it?" she said. "I mean the sloppy seconds."

"I tried not to think about it," I said. "No," I corrected. She frowned, but she wasn't done. She rolled on top of me and gave me the most sensual kiss I'd gotten from her in years. 

"Tomorrow, I will make things right by you. I will be making damn sure that you are one happy cuckold, Harvey. I mean it, Harv. I really mean it," she said. 

Sleep did come, and if the truth were to be known, it was for the most part untroubled.

******

In the morning, it was Sunday, I noticed that her side of the bed was empty. I got up, peed, and showered. After dressing I headed into the kitchen where I knew she'd be. She was, and she was boiling the water for the cream of wheat. I headed for the coffee maker and poured myself a cup of the elixir of life. God how I needed that first cup.

"How are you feeling?" she said, turning to me. 

"Not sure," I looked at my watch. "I should know better in maybe half an hour. Kinda depends on what you tell me." She raised her eyebrows.

"Yes, I suppose that's true. Should we eat first?" she said.

"Yeah, I guess," I said.

Breakfast over. Dishes cleaned up. Second cups of coffee poured. We stared at each other.

"Okay," I said, breaking the silence, "Talk to me." I had been able to recover some vestige of my formerly not inconsiderable ego during the night; and I was hoping a show of confidence on my part might get things going my way, at least a little bit. 

She nodded, looking down at the table. She was clearly gathering herself for her sales pitch.

"When we married, you and I had never had sex, not the whole thing at any rate. We'd fooled around some in the drive-in. We kissed our lips sore in the front seat of your car. But we'd never done the dirty. At the time, I thought that that was because you were trying to show your respect for me, and I loved you for it.

"Then there was the wedding and the wedding night and I knew," she said. She paused.

"And you knew?" I said.

"And I knew why you hadn't tried to fuck me."

"Huh?" I said.

"Your dick, it was so small. I knew then that you were ashamed of the size of your cock. You were afraid to let me see, well, see it," she said. I stood up. I was angry, very angry.

"What are you doing?" she said.

"That was not it at all! You got that! Not it at all!" I was white with rage. "I did respect you. I didn't want you to think that I was like those other men that had taken advantage of you. You know like Kevin Rensler did," I said. I saw her face flush. 

"You knew about Kevin?" she said.

"Yes, I did. I knew that he'd raped you, and that he'd gotten away with it. I knew, or thought that I knew, how traumatized by it you must have been. I was taking it easy. Time enough when we were married, I told myself. That, dear wife, is why I didn't fuck you before we tied the knot, not because of my nothing little cock. And, I'll say it again, dear wife, not because of my goddamned nothing little penis! Got that!"

"Oh my God!" she said. "I didn't know—I mean I didn't know that you knew. Oh my God!" She was clearly stopped dead in the water by my words.

"Look, Elise, I don't want to belabor this. It's clear to me that you don't think I'm—well—man enough for you. I mean clearly my cute little cock just hasn't got what it takes to make you happy. I think it would be best if we just divorced, hopefully amicably. I'll go my way, and you can go yours."

"No! I'm not done. Not man enough! Who the fuck ever said anything even remotely like that!" I was startled by her sudden anger.

"Okay, maybe I got it wrong back then," she said. "It sure as hell looks like maybe I did. I'm sorry about that. Oh my God—I am so damn sorry! Okay? Harvey, you said I had half an hour. I've only used up five minutes. Okay?"

"Okay," I said.

She was actually wringing her hands as she prepared to go on. "Harvey, what I'm going to say now may hurt you some, I guess. But, on the other side of the coin, some of it should make you feel kinda good, so maybe it'll be a wash in those respects.

"What it most definitely will be, Harv, is the unadorned truth. You deserve at least that much."

"Thank you. That's all I want. I mean the truth. If there is any chance for us, the truth is the only path to find it," I said. "The only path, Elise." Boy was I freakin' wrong.

"I know," she said. I spread my hands in a get on with it gesture.

"I guess I have to start with the bottom line and go from there," she paused, and looked at me with almost pleading eyes.

"Harvey, frankly your dinky dick is a big part of it. It really isn't enough for me. Nor would it be for most women." I could feel my eyes cloud over: so much for my vestigial ego. 

"I can hardly feel you when you're inside of me. So, I guess, you were partly right last night when you said that I would be granting you mercy fucks when we did it together. I know I am hurting your pride saying that. But, I don't want for us to begin anew on any false basis."

"Yeah, well thanks one helluva lot," I sneered. 

"Listen, Harvey, a fuck is a fuck, regardless of the kind. You get me whenever and wherever you want. We—I'll—be doing it for you. Not just to show you mercy either, but because you deserve it and you have rights, just as I have rights and needs," she said. 

"And, I will always—always Harvey—be doing my level best to make it thrilling for you. Mercy fucks? Okay, so damn what if they are. Like I said, a fuck is a fuck. And, there will be those occasions, Harv, and yes believe it or not there have been some in the past, when you do get me off—thrill me if you get my drift. What we've got, Harvey, is love. As important as sex is, and it is important, it comes in a distant second to our love for each other."

My tears began rolling down my face. I could feel them. She still paid me little notice. It was like she was in her own little world desperately trying to find a way to sell her logic.

"All that said, Harvey, again, cock size is only a part of the picture. There are other things that a woman needs that you give me that none of the other men I've been with ever have. Add to those the fact that you are the most sensitive and loving person in the whole world. You, sir, are my knight in shining armor. I need you more than you ever needed me. Believe it," she said.

"Harvey, I intend, I need, to keep on seeing other men for sex. Or, more accurately their big dicks." I started to say something, but she held her hands up to stop me. "Please, Harv, this is important." I shut up and waited; I didn't trust my voice not to crack anyway.

"So, why should you stay with me. Harv, because, I will make it my business to include you. We will work out the details between us. Last night was the first act in that process," she said. I looked her askance.

"The sloppy seconds," she said. "It was a huge turn on for me to fuck you with another man's cum inside of me. And, even though you may not be quite ready to admit it, I think it was for you too. If nothing else, Harv, I know you."

"Fuck you!" I said. "You think—you want—you want me to me to be willing to routinely follow your friends into your pussy after you get it on with them? Is that it? Are you nuts, Elise?"

"You did it last night, Harv. And no, I'm not crazy. And watching your dick twitching while we talked about giving you your first sloppy load last night was the proof of the pudding, Harv. Go ahead deny it if you dare. Tell me you weren't turned on by the idea of following another man into me, Harvey. Go ahead, tell me.

"So much time lost, so much to make up for. I have no words," she said.

I sat there utterly stunned. She had no words? I had no words either. Include me. How? She'd already totally shredded my manhood. 

"Okay, I dare. I deny it! Got it. Yes, I let you do me last night. Yes, I knew I was getting some other man's leavings. But, I was out of it, lost. I didn't really know what I was doing. Today, I do know, Elise. 

"Elise you have already cut me so low I have to look up to see my goddamned footprints. I'm nothing in bed? Sloppy seconds in my future—I mean me willingly and gratefully accepting mercy fucks and sloppy seconds to make you feel better about destroying me? Never again!" I said. "Never again! Hell will freeze over before I accept your idea of togetherness. 

"This is the deal, Elise. Okay, no sex for me anymore. At any rate, not until I am single again. I get it: I understand what I am to you now. It'll be tough on me, but I will just have to do without until I can afford to move out and get a divorce. I figure a few months, and I'll be able to do it. In the meantime we will cohabit, but as far as I'm concerned we're done, you and I, as a couple.

"Go out there and screw everything in sight if you want, but one thing Elise, not here in the house. Not ever. Not until I move out, not until then. You got it!" I said. "Grant me at least that smidgen of respect, please." 

I was not being nice. Maybe I was nothing to her. Hell, it was obvious I was nothing to her, but I still had a little pride.

She nodded. "Okay, Harvey, I knew it was going to be tough for you to accept. I'll be patient; I owe you that. But, Harv, if you think over what I've been saying; well, I think you might want to reconsider. The door is open, and it will stay open forever, Harvey. You are my beloved even if it doesn't seem so at the moment. Please, give what I've said some thought." I didn't answer her, I just looked at her and went to the bathroom; that coffee could sure run through a guy.

The tears, too, seemed never to want to stop, and the toilet paper was there.

******

We settled into a quiet existence. She, for her part, opted for patience, as she'd promised, as her modus operandi. Me? For my part, I opted for a modus of grim determination. I knew she figured that my hormones would force the issue in her favor. She did not count on the degree of pain I was possessed of, and that mainly as a result of the hurt she'd heaped on me. Oh, she was aware of the hurt all right, but she saw it as her being truthful while at the same time offering me a viable and attractive alternative. Wrong didn't even begin to express her miscalculation.




Elise and Harvey Barrios



******

Our problems, to be as euphemistical as one can be, had begun in January; it was now the end of November. We went to work; we ate together, mostly silently; she'd smile and periodically come on to me; and I'd demur, without rancor, but I'd demur.

She and I did talk some, but my knowing she was out fucking everything with a third leg made any intimate conversation by us a non-happening.

We never went anywhere together now, and that fact was about to pose a small problem. Since neither of us had any close family left, we'd always spent the holidays together or with a few close friends. Thanksgiving and Christmas were the biggees; now they were upon us; it promised to be a sad time at least for me. But in her case, I think she saw their approach as an opportunity.

"Harvey, could I ask you something. I know we are kinda just floating and not going anywhere right now, and I do hope that that will change," she said, giving me a mushy look. "Anyway, I mean would it be all right, you know, to have Thanksgiving Dinner together somewhere?" 

Her request had come out of the blue and had caught me kinda flatfooted as one might say. "I guess," I said. "Where did you have in mind?"

"Anywhere but McDonald's," she laughed. I was forced to smile back at her. Okay, so she got a point in with that one. 

"The Road House," I said. "Haven't had a good steak in a long time," I was not all that partial to Turkey, and what did I have to be thankful for anyway. She gave me a strange look but turned it into a winsome smile. 

"Good," she said. 

Thanksgiving was this coming Thursday; I made the reservations. 

Some may ask, why, with my marriage cratering did I even want to be anywhere near the whore. I don't know if I can really give a coherent reason for that, but I guess that two words fit the bill as well as any: Love and Loneliness.

Yes, I was still in love with her, and yes I was lonely as hell—even with her still around and trying to make me, entice me, into doing her. God it was tough not to.

We arrived at the upscale dinner club at about 7:00PM. The band had yet to start up, though a couple of the members were busy setting up their equipment. The people in attendance were in varying stages of eating on this Holiday evening. Seated, we ordered and soon the wine was flowing and we each were on the brink of achieving a mellow mood. I don't know, it's something about wine, it seems to have more power to mellow out a person than does beer or the hard stuff.

"How was your steak, Harv?" said Elise. She was smiling, and it was kind of a wishful smile.

"Good, very good, it always is here," I said. "It kinda makes me miss the old days. I mean—never mind." I stopped before I ruined the mood. She nodded and didn't push it; she knew what I meant. She didn't want to ruin the mood either.

The band had started up and it wasn't so loud that we couldn't hear ourselves as is often the case with live bands. The first song was kinda romantic.

"Any chance you'd be willing to lead this old broad around the dance floor, husband mine?" she said. I hesitated. Eating was one thing, but dancing to a romantic song was entirely another. She noticed my reticence. "It's okay. No pressure." I felt like shit. I shouldn't have, but I did.

"Of course," I said, finally. "But you're not an old broad. You're the prettiest woman here. Every man in the place is probably jealous of me." She smiled broadly. I stood and offered her my hand. Tomorrow we'd be back in the trenches silently fighting it out, but tonight there was a truce. 

I think I only stepped on her toes once or twice. A dancer I wasn't, but I was a tryer. We danced a few tunes, all slow, and then came the ChaCha. I actually knew the basic steps, but I knew I looked awful doing them. Elise on the other hand looked magnificent, female, sexy. I was definitely just a prop for her for the evening. Kinda reminded me of my role as her sex partner, not very good, but better than absolutely nothing at all. Dance over, we headed back to our table. I was perspiring pretty good, but I was not entirely ruined physically.

We'd just settled into our seats when a shadow loomed over my right shoulder.

"Hey Elise, decided to take dinky-dick out for a bite to eat," said the man.

"Harry! What in the hell are you doing here. My husband and I..." 

"Yeah, I can see, you're having a bite to eat. I'm here with Janie. Thanksgiving and all that." A busty blond appeared behind his massive frame. Jesus the guy was big, maybe six-four by two-fifty.

I'd been silent. I decided to not be anymore. I stood up. The guy had a hundred pounds on me. But, well, what could he do to me that his words hadn't done worse. 

"Nobody asked you here, Harry. Why don't you just run along and play with yourself," I said. I wasn't quite shaking in my boots.

"Nah, not yet. I was just gonna offer your wife an opportunity to join us at our table. We'd invite you, but three's company if you get my meaning—Dinky." He said. I had to. I took a swing at him. 

To say that he mopped the floor up with me would be an understatement of heroic proportions. But, then, I really didn't have a lot of memory of the event after the first half-minute or so, so what do I know. I did hear a scream or two.

I couldn't have been out too long though. A paramedic revived me and pronounced me fit to go home if I had someone to drive me. Elise volunteered. 

"He'll be spending the night in jail, honey, if that's any consolation," she said, as she drove. I sat back and did my best to not feel the pain. At least I hadn't wimped out, dinky dick had stuck up for himself.

"Yeah, sure," I said. "Whatever."

"Honey, I am so sorry that asshole did that to you. Why in the world did you swing at him. He's so big, Harv." She said.

"You're kidding right. And what would you have thought of me if I had just let him get away with humiliating me in public. You know, his dinky dick comments. I should ask you how he knew about the size of my dick, but that's kinda obvious isn't it. Oh, and yes, him inviting you to join him at his table for a threesome, I think he said.

"Tell me, Elise, would you have gone? Would you have joined him and that blond bombshell," I said.

"No! Of course not! You are my husband not that idiot," she said. "Trust me, he ain't never getting' into these pants again. You on the other hand..." she didn't finish the sentence. I suppose I was supposed to.

We did not have sex that night, nor the next, nor the next. We once again settled into our state of trench warfare, neither side giving nor gaining any ground. Good 'ole Harry, for the record, spent three days in jail as it happened. I knew that because of an overheard phone conversation between Elise and one of her woman friends. Evidently, mister macho man was peeved, since I had thrown the first punch, that he'd had to spend any time in the slam at all. But, I guess the judge after hearing the facts didn't agree. He got thirty days for a knocked down charge of being drunk and disorderly, all suspended but three days. I'd spent the same three days recuperating from my beating. At least I'd gotten better food. 

I thought it interesting that Elise had enquired about the asshole, at least enough to find out what happened to him, how many days he spent in the slam. I didn't say anything; what would have been the point.

******

I'd saved and I'd calculated. I went without my bi weekly trips to my therapist, aka my bartender. I'd brought no new clothes and refused those, among other things, that my wife tried to ply me with, and she did try to ply me: I think my refusals hurt her feelings but so fucking what. After my beating by one of her two night stands, especially after that, I wanted nothing to do with her that wasn't either required by law or a matter of basic humanity; none of which included me accepting gifts from her, and certainly not offers of sex. 

Over the course of almost year, as mentioned, it had taken that long to get myself to a place where I could comfortably get out and move on; I had gotten no less than half a hundred offers of mercy sex from Elise though she never again called them that. Indeed, she did her level best to make her offers as palatable to me as she could, but her words putting me down as a man wouldn't go away; she'd all but verbally castrated me; I could hardly get it up anymore, at least not like before. 

Not for Elise, nor it seemed for any woman if it came to that. My humiliation was that total. In my renewed bitterness, it was easy for me to turn her down every time she tried to seduce me. I know she cried some too; I know she finally realized she had gone too far with her so called honesty. Water under the bridge? Fuck no, a raging fire in my stomach and a freezing cold in my heart.

And, she knew I was horny as hell: she'd caught me often enough almost desperately watching her, wishing I could do something to her with my cock, or at least get it up. At least she never again made an issue of cock again, the size of it; that at least was something. 

She knew too that I would not have sex outside the bonds of marriage, and I even think she was hoping that I would take that route though she never said so outright. Hence, I guess, she felt compelled to offer me that which I would not ask for. Finally, her level of frustration at her failure to tempt me led to a confrontation that proved to be the catalyst for my finally leaving. The timing was right.

******

"Harvey, I know you're climbing the walls. Just stop this nonsense and take me. I mean it; do it now. Take me upstairs and do me good. You need it, I need it; we can help each other," she said.

"You don't want sex from me, Elise. You've said it. I believe it. And, so it's a non-happening with the situation we've got here. I've got that much pride in myself. I've said it a dozen times if I've said it once: I will not accept a mercy fuck from you or anybody else. Never-never-never!" I said, as vehemently as I ever said anything.

"Harvey, it wouldn't be a mercy fuck. It would be a makeup fuck if anything. I misspoke those months ago, and I apologize. You can satisfy me. You maybe need to work a little harder at it than some others, but you've satisfied me in the past; you can again. You just have to give yourself a chance, and me a chance. Please, Harvey!" she said.

"Why do you need me for sex, Elise? I know you've been doing other guys this past year. Hell, some weeks you're gone five nights in a row. Tell me, that those nights you were gone, you were at the library studying ways to save a marriage. No, don't tell me that; it would be a lie; there've been enough of those," I said.

"Okay, yes, I've had sex with some others. You could too, Harvey. We could make this a good thing instead of the bad thing that it is. Please, my good man. Please. Let's end this game and move on," she said.

Well, now that's the first thing you've said that I agree with. We do need to move on," I said. I could see her mood lighten; it wouldn't last.

"I will be moving out in the morning after you go to work. This is the end of us, Elise. You can have your big dicks and all that goes with them. Me—not." I headed up the stairs to the guest bedroom that I had been occupying for the past eleven and a half months It was mid-December. I thought I heard her crying during the night, but it was no use: she was a whore and she wanted to remain one. I couldn't live with that, not even.

******

When things go to hell, like marriages sometimes do, they really go to hell. My experience was just such. I'd had to finally make a break with the only one I had ever really loved in my entire life. Those who have been through it know what it's like, and they also know why it took me a year to get to the place where I could actually go through with the break up. And, now my life was shit. Was it worse shit than the shit I'd been living with for the past year? Who the hell new. I sure as hell had no fucking idea. Both were bad. Both were beyond my control. Helluva thing. 

******

I called in sick—again. "Hold on for a minute, Harvey, Cap Dorsey wants to talk to you," said Karen, the boss' secretary.

"Sure," I said. I knew what he wanted. It was my fifth call-in-sick in the previous month and a half. It'd been some three months, now, since my breakup with my wife.

"Hello, Harvey?" said the bass voice of my long time boss and friend. 

"Hi, boss. Not feeling too good today. I'm calling in sick," I said.

"Harvey, this is the last time. I know your breakup with Elise was a killer. I understand that. But, you have to get by it and get on with your life. Stop crying in your beer and get back to us. This is the last time, Harvey. No more sick outs, none." He hung up. I looked at the phone and slowly placed it back in its cradle.

I took stock of my situation. A good job, a broken heart, no one to come home to. One out of three didn't look too good to me. I determined to not be sick, even if I was sick, anymore.

The Hard Hat was a bar I'd discovered over the course of the last couple of months. It, or rather the people who worked there or frequented it, had kinda become my family. And like any family, its members had a tendency to not only empathize with a guy like me but very often to overdo it. The day after my discussion with Cap Dorsey, actually Captain Dorsey of our local police department, I was late again. I was also fired.

Wonderful, zero out of three is even worse than one out of three. I was pretty near rock bottom. But, I had skills. Somebody would have pity on me.

******

After our breakup, I cut myself completely off from Elise. She had the house, but she also had all of the bills attendant to it. I didn't send her a dime, and, she never asked for anything. I knew she had to be barely getting by, her auto parts sales job was a good one but not all that good. I smiled to myself; maybe she'd had to ask some of her many fuck buddies to help her; well, that was just too damn bad. 

It should be noted that neither of us had so far filed for divorce, in my case because I couldn't afford it. As for her? Probably the same reason, I reasoned.

It did happen, that I'd had to move out of the little so-called apartment, that which I had been flopping in since being fired. Not, ironically, because I couldn't afford it; but because the owner wanted to remodel the building. Inconvenient, but not a big problem. I had luckily chosen something so cheap that I had actually been able to save a little money. That fact was able to cover me until I got my next job, at Radio Shack. 

The job at RS was mindless and paid accordingly, but it filled the bill for me. The bad news was that RS Inc. had even less patience than had Cap Dorsey and the police department: I was fired again. 

To make a really long story short, I spent the next three years moving from job to job staying just barely ahead of my creditors—of which thankfully there were but few. And, then, as luck would have it, I caught on with a job that actually made sense for someone with my skills and emotional baggage. Forty-one years old, I was, and I finally had a career worth bragging about.

I got a job at the Hard Hat as night cleanup guy and security guard. Basically my hours were midnight to eight in the morning: two hours more or less of cleanup, and the rest just touring the parking lot on the lookout for potential break-ins. The HH had had several attempted such and a couple of successful ones over time, and Mac Steiner, the owner, saw a use for a semi-derelict like me and let me stay in the back room and even paid me the princely sum of seventy-five good American dollars weekly; I was in hog heaven. 

Hell, my new job fit my state of mind and my body. And, if my good fortune at finding a good job were not enough, Mr. Steiner even provided me with a set of three bran-clean uniforms and a guard's badge; man was I a lucky sonovabitch!

******

Finally, steadily employed, I wasn't completely bereft of good sense even if I was bereft of anything remotely resembling feelings of self-worth, that thanks to Elise's honest evaluation of my sexual skills. Now, every morning after work, I hit the park and jogged between five and six miles—mostly six. By the end of that first year at the Hard Hat, I was pickin' 'em up and puttin' 'em down at a pretty good clip. I could do the six in under ninety minutes every time. The even better news was that the exercise and the resultant conditioning not only kept me in pretty good physical shape but also allowed me to sleep through the six hours after getting back each morning without a problem. This last had not been the case for the three years previous to my finding my now steady employment. 

My sex life? What sex life? My humiliation at the way my so-called wife had educated me as to my potential attraction to the opposite sex precluded me from asking any woman—I mean any woman—for a date, let alone sex. No, no sex life except for my almost nightly visit to the den of the five sisters: I had to keep my ball sack empty to keep from going nuts. Helluva life.

******

In the now four years since my exit from our marital home, I had not laid eyes on nor heard anything from or about Elise. I thought about her virtually all of the time, but they were just random nostalgic thoughts and wishful thinking—daydreaming. And, virtually every time I thought about her to any extent, I cried. What she had done to me, well my ego, was just too devastating to believe. I hated God for leaving me so bereft of manhood, and I cried about that too. Despair was my lot and it was ever present. But, even for a loser like me there is an occasional sliver of light penetrating the shadows of my conscious mind. Her name was Molly Cummings. 

Molly was short, twenty pounds overweight, so I estimated, and possessed of a list of emotional baggage almost as long as mine. The difference was that she was dealing with it, whereas it, my emotional baggage, was dealing with me. We were made for each other—sort of. Well, we understood each other. 

Almost every night we met up at the HH and commiserated over a glass of wine. 

For the record, even with all of my problems, I was not drinking heavily. Oh, there were stil the occasional bad nights, had been especially so in the early days after my leaving Elise; but those days were behind me; I supposed that was a good thing. 

Molly was soft spoken and a good listener. I returned the favor of course, that is I became a good listener too.

"So, what's the good news?" said Molly.

"Same as yesterday, Molly. No break-ins here, no raise in pay so my taxes will remain low, and no news of any consequence which for me translates into good news," I said. "You?"

"Also the same. No news from my runaway hubby, no improvement in my mental state, and oh yes, no raise for me on my job at the phone company. Helluva a pair we make," she said.

I tilted back the stem glass I had in front of me. "Yeah, helluva pair for sure," I said. "Maybe you and I should get married sometime."

"Hah! You're not even divorced," she said. I looked at her.

"Yeah, I guess that's right. I mean I'd know if my ex—or whatever she is—divorced me, right?" I said. "And, as I recall you're still married to your man."

"Yes and yes," she said.

"Well, we could move in together or something and commit mortal sins. You know, of lust." I said. "I mean we could hold each other's hand and cry on each other's shoulder."

"Yeah, and you'd soon be wanting to stick your dick into me and that would eventually come back to bite us in the ass because we're both still in love with our significant others even though they've dumped us to sow their wild oats in greener pastures," she said.

"Yours may have dumped you for greener pastures, but mine dumped me because of my pathetic dick," I said. She gave me a questioning look. "Four, well almost four, not very thick inches," I said. She smiled.




Elise and Harvey Barrios



"So, that was it for you guys? Your ex is a size queen, is she?" said Molly.

"Yeah, I guess so. Or, maybe she just didn't like me. I mean would anyone want a dude like me?" I said. And, yes, I knew I was whining.

Molly laughed. "Don't sell yourself short bub—oh—no pun intended, really," she said. "Frankly, cock size does count, but it is by no means the deciding factor in a relationship. That said, and that also being demonstrably true, she probably did dump you for some other reason, and, probably more than one."

"You sure no how to hurt a guy," I said. "I can't win. If even you see me as a loser what have I got to live for besides television and internet porn sites?" She smirked.

"Get off that bar stool and stand over there," said Molly.

"Huh?" I said.

"Just do it," she said. She was watching me closely. I felt really stupid. I was also sporting a hardon that was very difficult to conceal even considering its small size. But, I did as she told me.

"What," I said, finally. "Whaddya want from me. I did what you told me." She just continued to stare.

"Okay, you can reoccupy your bar stool," she said. "Interesting."

"Interesting? What's interesting?" 

"Several things. Wanna hear?" she said.

"Of course, I'm just dying of curiosity," I said, not quite sarcastically—or maybe sardonically was the right term.

"I'm kind of an expert when it comes to men and sex and all of it, Harvey. What I see in you is a fairly decent looking man, a man not without natural charm. A man too, whose dick is a major drawback if not a fatal one. A man who is something of a pussy..." I started to interrupt, but she put the kibosh on that with a look.

"Yes, a pussy, and pussywhipped pussy at that, Harvey. I'm willing to bet that you never put your foot down with Elise. Hence, she never truly respected you. A woman likes to think she controls things when it matters, but she also wants to be protected and guided in some things. The secret of understanding women, Harvey, is in understanding our female contradictions. You never got it at least that's my theory.

"I could tell just by the way you got off that stool when I told you to that what I'm saying is true. An alpha male would have laughed, maybe even pulled me off my stool along with him. Maybe even forcibly kissed me. Something like that anyway. But not you. You just did what you were told," she said. I think my face flushed red.

"You got all of that out my little exhibition of obedience?" I said. 

"Yes. But, there's good news," said Molly.

"Yeah, right," I said.

"Really. A submissive man, and that's what you are if I'm any judge, can have a really hot life sexually with the right woman," she said.

"The right woman?"

"Yes, a woman who understands her man and cultivates him. Your wife seems not to have understood you, or if so, there were other things that turned her off to you. It may even be that she's a submissive herself, and it maybe was kind of a case of never the twain shall meet," she said—apologies to Rudyard.

I looked Molly in the eye and she didn't flinch. "No way," I said, finally. "I'm not a submissive, never have been. And, while I am willing to admit that I evidently sure didn't know my wife, I don't believe that she is either." Molly just spread her hands in an "oh well" Gesture.

*******

A few days after my sit down with Molly I had a shock. It was late, a little after twelve. The bar was still open, but not many stayers left for Jake, the barkeep for the midweek evening shift, to service. I was already starting on my cleanup duties. I had wiped down the tables by the wall and I was moving the mop bucket over to the same area to clean up the spills left there by a crowd of carousing college students earlier in the evening. The shock just alluded to came just as I began to wring the mop head for the cleanup There was a tug on my sleeve. I turned to see who it was that was interfering with progress.

"Harvey?" The voice caused my stomach to churn so suddenly and violently that I almost lost my lunch then and there. I stared at her for a long moment. She did not interrupt me. The man standing behind her, the black man standing behind her, was smiling; then, he spoke.

"This is Harvey? This is your husband? This is dinky dick?" said her companion. He broke out laughing.

"Shut the fuck up Darrell, just shut the fuck up!" said Elise.

"Harvey, you're so thin. What have you been doing to yourself? My God what are you doing with that mop? Harvey Barrios, what's going on," she said.

"Nuthin'. I'm fine. Wait here; I'll be back in a second," I said. I headed for the back before she or her date could say anything else. I left the building running. I ran fast; like I said, I was in good shape. It seemed like my ex-woman had not lost her talent for humiliating me.

******

"That was your ex," said Jake, when I returned at 2:00AM.

"Yeah, did she stay long? I hope you didn't tell her where I lived?" I said.

"No, no, I'm not that dumb. But for the record, she did ask."

"I don't wanna see her—ever again. She destroyed me, and it's taken me this long to get just part of the way back, Jake. I need to be left alone, at least by her," I said. He nodded.

******

"Darrell, you are some kind of asshole. Why did you have to say that stuff to him? He never did anything to you. Shit-shit-shit!" said Elise. "All I ever seem to do is hurt the guy. I try to be honest and I hurt him. I try to be concerned for him and I hurt him—or I bring someone along who hurts him. I can't fucking win!"

"Yeah, yeah, I guess I was out of line. I'm sorry okay? I apologize," said Darrell.

"Don't fucking apologize to me, butthead. Apologize to him!

"Wait, that's an idea. We go to him and apologize—I mean abjectly apologize. Even if he tells us to fuck off, we take our medicine and ask him in which direction he'd like us to fuck off in. Sincerely ask him," said Elise.

"What! Chase the guy down and humiliate ourselves so that he can save a little face? You've got to be kidding," said Darrell.

"Fuck no I'm not kidding. And we're not gonna be waitin' for fucking Easter to do it.

"I gotta call Sandy. She'll know how to handle it," said Elise. "Sure as hell she can't do any worse than me."

******

"Canby," said the voice on the other end of the line.

"Sandy, it's me. I need to talk to you. I need to talk to you now.

"Your place or mine," said Sandra Canby.

The knock, though expected, startled her. "Get it, Darrell, will you please," said Elise. The man rose to do her bidding.

The two women faced each other. "Well," said Sandra. "You got me over here. Whatcha need?"

"I found him. Well, Darrell and I did," said Elise. "We were looking in the all the wrong places. He's not a computer whiz anymore; he's a janitor in a bar. Jesus, Sandy, I am so ashamed. I did this to him, and I don't know what I'm gonna do to make it right by him." The other woman's face took on a severe but empathetic aspect.

"Elise, I know you've wanted to try and make up with the man, but it's been too long. You've gotten on with your life and so has he. Opening old wounds is not the answer for either of you," said Sandy.

"Sandy, I have to try. No ifs, no ands, no buts: I have to try," said Elsie. "I need help here. You've got to help me Sandy—really."

Sandy sighed. "What bar?"

The face of Elise lit up. "Oh thank you, dear friend. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

"Elise, save your appreciation until after we make the effort. And, I can tell you almost for certain that we're going to fail. Elise, You know me. I've been with so many men it's not funny. Hear me, I may be just a half way decent prostitute, but I know men. 

"Elise, you tried for a year, after he caught you with Harry, and since then, you've never given up hope of maybe getting back with him at least on some level. But girl, I am here to tell you that your chances are damn near nil and none. Oh, and Harry called yesterday, said he wants to see you this weekend, you know, if you and Darrel are cool with it."

"Yeah, maybe. I'll call him back later. I have other fish to fry for the moment."

"Elise, telling a man that he cannot not only not satisfy you, but also no other woman is the kiss of death to a relationship; and you knew it or should have," said Sandy.

"I know, I know. I was just trying to be perfectly honest with him. He deserved honesty at the very least. But—evidently it was not the right thing for him, not from me," said Elise.

"Not from any woman," said Sandy. "But, tell me, just what do you want out of this. He's not going to stand for having other men around—certainly not his ebonyship. And as for Harry; well, enough said." Darrell had made himself scarce when Sandy'd arrived; he knew the drill.

"I'm not sure. I tried to get him to become part of what I—we—were doing, but it was way too late for that. So, I don't know."

"Well, if I'm any judge, he isn't going to be any easier to convince now than he was then. You willing to give up Darrell and Harry and the rest of your bevy of cocks to get your man back?" said Sandy. Elise clenched her fists and hardened her features.

"No. I can't. I know it and you know it—and—he knows it. But, I also know that if I can just get him to come to one or two of our get togethers that I can convince him to come home to me. To join us and be part of my life, as he should have been from the git-go," said Elise.

"You're living in a dream world, Elise, but, that said. I will try and help you. Initially, you have to stay out of it. I will do the leading and tempting of your man. You will only be called in during end game. Is that one-hundred percent clear, Elise?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Elise.

"You know, honey girl, that you should be doing it for money just like me. Darrell would understand, so would Harry, even if your hubby won't. I mean you're out there doing the neighborhood anyway..."

"No, it's the one thing I promised myself when I—well when I started. Fun yes, business no. Whatever small hope I have as to getting him back is based on that smidgen of ethic," said Elise.

******

I didn't quit my job at the Hard Hat, but I was never there until after midnight to start my shift now. I didn't want to chance meeting up with her again, her or her lovers. Once was enough.

A month after running out of the Hard Hat I found myself walking, just walking, not jogging. I had no place to go. Didn't want to just be sitting in my room at the bar and even less sitting in the bar itself. The fear that she would be looking for me was still very strong in my head. Ironic as hell, I thought, I feared seeing Elise; while at the same time I needed to see her, be with her. Talk about contradictions. 

I saw the sign across the street. I'd jogged maybe a couple of miles. I wasn't tired, but I was bored. I saw the break in traffic and made for the opposite side. 

The Challenge bar and Grill was in walking distance from the HH and I started spending my once-a-week's there. Molly joined me from time to time. She was great therapy for my muddled and befuddled brain. She'd been right about one thing; I did still love the woman who'd been with me for so long. I couldn't get her out of my head. Seeing her started me torturing myself again, and it was killing me.

The Bar was dimly lit. Tables lined the wall around the small dance floor. The bar girl signaled me from behind her polished barrier.

"What'll yuh have, cowboy," she said.

"A glass of dago-red, I guess," I said. She bought it to me, and I took a sip. As my eyes adjusted to the darkened interior I surveyed the place. It was then that my momentary peace of mind came to a crashing halt. 

They were kissing and holding each other like two long lost lovers. He was the same guy she'd been with the month before: clearly not a two-night stand, not this guy. Yeah, Darrell, that was the name. She saw me five seconds after I spotted her. I swallowed and began heading for the exit—I didn't even wait to pay for the wine. I began running as soon as I hit the door.

Though almost 7:00PM it was still light outside. I should have seen the brightly painted yellow parking block, but I was looking back over my shoulder. Just as she came out the front door she spotted me. I took that miserable moment to trip. Not just trip mind you, but trip disastrously. My body twisted in an unnatural direction as my head bounced of the cool asphalt of the parking lot's surface. She was gone; everything was gone. Life was good, I thought, or, thought I thought.

I did hear something: maybe some guy calling for something; then, nothing.

******

"Darrell, call for help, fast!" screamed Elise. "He's hurt, maybe bad hurt." Darrell yanked his cell from his jacket pocket; he dialed 911. 

The EMT's looked grim as they loaded their guest into the ambulance.

"Jesus, Darrell, what am I going to do. What am I going to do! This sure puts the period on the sentence I was tryin g to write, me and Sandy that is."

"I gotta go along with you on that one, Elise. But, it wasn't your fault. We've avoided his bar, the one he works at. Hell, I liked that bar, but we don't go there just so we won't add to his misery. It's almost like the gods are against you—or—with you," he said. He became thoughtful. He looked meaningfully at her.

"With me?" she said.

"What if some kind of crazy fate is actually throwing you two together, keeping each of you in the other's mind—heart. I know you don't love me, Elise; my cock yes, but the real me; we're just friends. Friends with benefits as they say. I know I've got you as long as you remain a sexual person. I know, that even if you get back with him you'll be fucking me or someone like me. You need it," he said.

"Darrell, sometimes you surprise me. I didn't know you were so intellectual," she said, and she smiled.

"There are a few things I'm okay at," he said. "I ain't stupid."

"No. No you're not," she said, seeing him differently than she had but moments before.

******

"He's in the hospital? What the fuck!" said Sandy. 

"Yes, he fell down and hurt himself real bad, Sandy. Broken ankle and major head trauma, the doctor called it. He's got a fractured head!" said Elise. "I've been there every day with him, talking to him. I've taken leave at work just so I could be. He wakes up every now and then, seems to recognize me, and then drops off all over again." 

"What did the doctor say?" said Sandy.

"He told me that he was going to live, but that there might be some long lasting effects of the blow to the head," said Elise.

"Like?" said Sandy.

"Memory loss, maybe not able to do some things on his own. The doctor just didn't seem very sure," said Elise. She broke into uncontrollable sobbing.

Sandy wrapped her friend in her arms and did what she could to comfort her. "Let's not worry about what might be until it is," said Sandy. "Okay?" Elise nodded into her shoulder.

*******

I woke up to unfamiliar surroundings. It didn't register at first, but almost as soon as my eyes fluttered, a white clad nurse was at my side.

"Well, hello, Mr. Barrios," she said. "We've been waiting for you to join us. It's been a little while. Just a moment, someone wants to see you." My eyes followed her as she exited form the room. I heard a squeal. A moment later my wife was at my side.

"My God, Harvey, you gave me such a scare," she said. I just stared at her. "Harvey, please say something—please!"

"Huh? What are you doing here? Where am I?" I said.

"Thank God!" she said. I wondered what I'd said to make her so happy. "Harvey you remember me!"

"Remember you? Of course I remember you. You and your lover. At the—at the—Challenge. Oh, I remember you all right," I said. She was crying. But, the tears were not of frustration or loss—they were—tears of joy. It began to dawn on me. They—whoever they were—expected me to not remember stuff. Jesus! What did I do to myself. This was one thing I couldn't blame on Elise. I was the jackass that wasn't looking where I was going. Jesus!

"Honey, you need rest. The nurse is going to shoo me out in a minute. I love you. And, please, you and I need to talk. I mean it, Harv. Really, we need to. I don't even know what I will be saying, but some way, somehow we gotta get some stuff said. Okay?" said Elise. I nodded, slowly, but I nodded, and I was not sure why.

******

"He saw you with Darrell. He knows you're a slut, and he knows you're not about to change. He will not believe you will do it so you can get back with him, him and his four-inch dick. No, Elise, you have to sell him on the idea that he is okay with it, and that you and he can make it work even with the Darrells of the world hanging around just outside your bedroom door, so to speak. In other words the truth. The truth, that is, without insulting or alluding to his sexual skills in any way whatsoever," said Sandy.

"There's no way," said Elise. "I tried the truth, the unadorned truth, and I destroyed him. I might as well just make my apologies—again—and walk away."

"Actually, there might be a way. The way he's been acting, I mean, what is it now, four years and more worth..." said Sandy.

"What are you talking about?" said Elise.

"Clearly, he still cares. He's actually afraid of you: you seeing what's in his heart and mind. He wants you to take him back, and he will do—if I'm any judge—almost anything to get you," said Sandy. "But, the conditions have to be right. He has to feel safe. His ego can't take anymore, not even a suggestion of anything negative."

"I wish that were true, I wish that that were all there was to it, Sandy, but I don't know. He really hates my ways if not me. He understands his inadequacy. He knows that if I fuck him that it's not because I want and need his dick. He's already told me that he is not into mercy fucks. 

"I guess it's that he knows or at least believes that he can't please me or almost any woman, and he's ashamed of himself. And, yes, he knows it's not his fault, but also knows that there is nothing he can do about it," said Elise.

"There is only one answer if you intend to get him back," said Sandy.

"And that might be?" said Elise.

"You have to get him to know that there are things he can do that do satisfy you. That you do want and need and wait anxiously at home for him to get there to do them to you. You need to get him to get by the one thing he can't do anything about and to focus on the things—plural—that he can. And, one thing more, Elise, he has to learn to accept that you are a slut and—almost—like it," said Sandy.

"He has to learn how to get you hot and drive you wild with desire," said Sandy. "You're gonna have to be his trainer."

"Easy to say, hard to do," said Elise,

"You mean he has never turned you on?" asked Sandy.

"You'd be surprised," said Elise.

"Try me."

"A few things that I've done 'to him' have turned me on big time, but they were humiliating for him," said Elise. "But him, things he's done to me? Not really."

"Oh come on, girl, give, What did you do to him," said Sandy. Elise hemmed-and-hawed.

"Come on, Elise, this is no time to be shy." 

"Well, there were a few times when I peed on him in the shower; it was just silliness. And, sometimes after I'd had sex with a guy, I'd bring home a load of cum for him and make him lap it up. He never knew about those times of course," said Elise. "You know, actually, thinking about it, he really is a bit better at oral than most guys. I think he tries to make up for the size of his cock with his mouth."

"Interesting. Let me ask. When you peed on him, was he hard? Did he stay hard, or was he disgusted?" said Sandy. Elise looked at her friend.

"Well, yes, he stayed hard; but I think that that was because I was stark naked in front of him," said Elise. Elise stared questioningly at her friend's broad smile.




Elise and Harvey Barrios



"I think we may have the guy," said Sandy. "If he was hard because of the humiliating circumstances of you peeing on him, he's a dead duck and you win. Trust me.

"When is he going to get out of the hospital?" said Sandy

******

I knew I'd told Elise that we would talk, but I was not ready to mambo out and away from the hospital's loving care and risk dueling with her in my weakened state. Still, that said, I was feeling a good bit better, and the hematoma to my brain had shrunk—the doctor's words—to the point that I was no longer in any serious danger. 

My room at the Hard Hat was clean and my stuff was all there, just as I knew it would be. I slept in my first day back and followed doctor's orders to not push things too hard. 

I had not figured—and I should have—on my wife's resolve to converse with me. Two days after getting back to work, I was sitting at a table in the Hard Hat. I was just relaxing in the waning moments of the late afternoon, a cup of hot tea in front of me. I was accosted by a slim and pretty blond who, as she stood there, assured me that I had nothing to fear from talking with her—the blond that is. Her name was Sandra Canby. She laughed as she took the seat across from me without being asked to.

"You can call me Sandy," said Sandy.

"Okay. What can I do for you ma'am, uh Sandy," I said. She smiled.

"Weeell, maybe it's more like what I can do for you," she said. I began to smell a rat. 

"Look miss, I don't pay..." I started. She feigned a pained expression.

"You too good for me?" she said. Her features were now passive and patient.

"Hah!" I said. "More like you'd be too good for me." She looked me up and down. 

"Not the answer I expected from a big strong fellow like you," she said. I wasn't big or especially strong, and I knew it; but I let her remarks, which I knew were not meant to be insulting, slide.

Yeah, well, my wife—used to be wife—assures me that I'm not man enough for any woman," I said. That stopped her, or so I imagined.

"Huh? Used to be wife? Man enough? What are you talking about, mister?" she said.

"Small dick, no skills, and no hope of ever getting either. The five sisters take care of me thank you very much. So take your prostitute's ass elsewhere. Okay!" I said. I was beginning to tear up again. Why had I unloaded on her? I didn't know. Frustration at my lack of hope I suppose. I really didn't know. But, at least I wasn't setting myself up for another crusher.

She sat back in her chair and stared at me. "Kinda down on yourself aren't you?" she said.

"Just up and travel, okay. I don't need the aggravation or the humiliation, so just leave me alone," I said. 

"Wow! You are down on yourself. I would never have suspected it. 

"You say your wife told you that you were hopeless? Hey, I've seen guys with little weenies lots of times. It ain't no biggee," she said. 

"Maybe not for you; you're in business to please not to be pleased. But for a wife I just ain't got what it takes. And, I never have nor ever will pay for a piece of ass," I said. She studied me.

"This might be the challenge of a lifetime, and I may be some kind of sucker here—and I don't mean the cock sucking kind. But, I'm gonna take a chance.

"How long has it been for you?" she said.

"Over five years," I said.

"Sweet Jesus! five years? Five years!

"You must be climbing the walls," she said. The look in her eyes was genuine sympathy; there was no doubt in my mind about that.

"Oh yeah, you're getting a freebie from me—now! Come on," she said.

"Huh? What? I don't..." I started.

"You don't have anything to say about it, mister. You're getting fucked today, so get used to the idea. I can't let it get out that the male population around here can be intimidated to not want sex," she said.

"I didn't say I didn't want it; I said I know that no woman would want me. My wife is kinda an expert in these things," I said.

"Unless she's a prostie like me, baby; she ain't no expert," said Sandy. "And besides, as an added bonus today, and today only, I am going to give you an unbiased analysis of your skills when we're done. How's that for a deal?" I looked at her and thought she had a point.

A prostie, as she referred to herself, would at least be more concerned with my feelings than my wife was; that was an actual fact.

"Okay then. Where?" I asked. 

"Follow me, I have a pad nearby."

******

The pad, as she called it, was nearby, like two blocks away nearby. I wondered why I'd never seen her in the bar before. Didn't ladies of the night like bars?

Sandy was a very nice looking gal, I decided. If I could get a free lay, and maybe a little advice, I'd count it as time well spent. 

The apartment was small, one bedroom, a comfort room, and what I can only describe as a combination kitchenette-dinette-livingroomette; I mean small, but it evidently served her purpose.

"I'll be right back. You make yourself comfortable," she said. I did so on the little love seat by the wall. The apartment was warm, but that had to be counted as lucky because, when she came back from the bedroom, she was naked. I stared.

"You look fantastic," I said. She smiled her gratitude at me. 

"Come here big boy," she said. She crooked a figure at me beckoning me. I obeyed her. She let me kiss her. I made sure to be gentle; I did not want to ruin the mood. I made up my mind to do my level best to please her. I knew I didn't have much hope of measuring up—no pun intended—but, maybe I could please her in other ways. That was my goal.

Her arms around my neck, she melded her body to my still clothed one. She pushed me a back a little.

"Take your clothes off, okay," she said. I nodded and began to mechanically undress myself. I hadn't been naked in front of a woman in five years: the one while I stayed with Elise even after discovering her and that Harry guy, and the four years since; I felt a little shy around this very experienced—so I imagined—pro. Stupid to say it, but that was the word.

I was hard as a rock. My almost masculine weapon did not look to threatening to her, that I was sure of. 

Her hands dangled at her sides. She stood back a step and eyed it, my penis. "It is a little on the small side," she announced. "But, believe it or not, I've seen smaller. Now let's see if you know what to do with it, and, with a woman." I swallowed big. Nervous didn't even begin to describe me at that moment. I took her in my arms and kissed her, still gently, but with a deal of pent up passion. She ground herself into me, and I hardened yet more. I must have squeezed her with a little too much enthusiasm because she grimmaced. 

"Careful, big guy, I'm not real fragile, but I can break," she said.

"Oh—I'm—I mean..."

"Calm down, let Sandy take the lead, okay. You'll be fine."

As we stood there she played with my cock and kinda smiled moving her head from side to side. I had the feeling that I was being evaluated.

"Get down on your knees, Harvey, please," she said. I immediately did as she told me. "Now, kiss me Harvey. Yes, like that. Right there. Now french-kiss me Harvey, there." She braced herself against my face as I licked and sucked on her pussy lips. I did my best to try and fuck her with my tongue; she came. And, I know it was real because of the juices she squirted on to my face.

A few minutes later she used a single finger to raise my gaze to hers. "Stand up, young man," she said. She guided me over to the love seat and had me sit on the edge. She knelt between my legs and once again played a little with my cock. Leaning forward, she took the whole of it into her mouth. As she did, I felt her insinuate a finger into my ass. I felt her brush against my prostate. It was the most erotic thing I had ever experienced. I came in gobs; she swallowed a good deal of it.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she tendered me a serious look. "Well, you tasted good," she said. "My turn on the couch." She pulled me off and knelt on it with her butt pushed back toward me. "Get your face in there, mister, and do me good with that tongue of yours. And, don't neglect my anus," she said.

"I'd never licked a woman's butt before, but I didn't hesitate. I was so horny that I was actually almost hard again after but minutes since having cum in her mouth. I ministered to her holes for some time before I got my next command. "Now push that little cock of yours into me and fuck me, Harvey. Give me the best you've got." I tried. Oh God, how I tried. I only hoped that I had had some measure of success in pleasing her.

It took but a few minutes to get to the point of pumping my second load into her, this time into her pussy. I strained to hold back as long as I could before spurting. She felt me shrinking and looked rearward at me; I felt like I was being judged. She sighed.

Coming down from the couch." She pulled me to the floor with her. We made out for some little time. Then, rolling to the side and propping herself up on an elbow, she looked at me critically.

I didn't want to leave, but I wondered how much she was going to let me do, since she was doing me gratis. I soon got the answer to my question.

"You're not done yet, young man," she said. "But, the next go 'round is in the bedroom." She stood and waited for me to do likewise. I wasn't sure that I had another shot in me, but she evidently had little doubt about that.

She laid herself face down on the bed and spread her legs wide. "The KY jelly is there," she said, nodding in the direction of the nightstand. "Use a lot of it on yourself and then push a bunch inside my butt. Don't be stingy with it. You may be small, but a butt needs a lot of care regardless of the size of the cock that you guys shove into it. Okay." 

"Yes, ma'am," I said. I'd never butt fucked a woman before not even my wife. I was intrigued. I Plied her with a huge amount of the slick goo.

As I pushed into her, she grunted. All in, I began to fuck her. She got into it after a short time and started ramming back at me each time I slammed into her. It was fully ten minutes before I unloaded inside of her. I almost passed out from the thrill of it; yes, the thrill of it. Finally sated, I rolled off and waited for the angels in heaven to come and retrieve my certainly about to expire body.

We were asleep in minutes. The smell of coffee woke me. I found her in the combo room.

"Sleep good, mister?" she said.

"Apparently," I said, "I don't remember any of it."

She motioned me to sit down. I did. "Was it okay for you?" she said. "I mean doing a whore?" I stared at her and gathered myself to answer her objectively.

She poured the coffees and brought them to the table. She sat across from me, her robe falling open, exposing her breasts.

"It was fucking wonderful," I said. "You? Tell me truly, please. I can take it." 

"Hmm. You can, can you," she said. "Okay, then, here it is.

"You were okay. Not wonderful, but okay. I got off when you ate me at the start. I think you know that, but not from you fucking me.

"You're dick reminds me of the little engine that could. Honestly, it felt good inside of me, and yes, I could feel you in spite of what you may think. I especially liked you in my ass. You didn't hurt me like some men with larger cocks. It was actually quite—stimulating.

"Overall, you have possibilities. You need to learn a few things, and, it will take a woman to teach them to you. But, it is more than possible for you to be a decent lover given that you do learn.

"At any rate that is my truthful analysis of your performance. Your wife is probably not going to ever be satisfied with the size of your dick, but that does not mean that it is impossible to satisfy her. Okay?"

"Sandy, thank you. I think I enjoyed you more than I have any woman in my whole life, not that I've had many, but..."

"I understand. We'll talk again," she said. "But, now it is time to eat."

******

"You fucked him! My husband! You screwed him! Some friend you are, Sandy," said Elise.

"He needed it, Elise. I mean he really needed to get off. I've never seen the like. Desperate is the word that comes to mind—and maybe hopeless. You absolutely destroyed that man. I'm just hoping he doesn't find out that it was a set up; I think he might end it all if he did," said Sandy. Elise looked at her friend and then let the tears come.

"Sweet fucking damn it! Why couldn't he understand what I meant. I love the guy; always will. I know he's lost to me now, but in my heart he will always have the first place. 

"Men, I don't understand how they think or what they think is important; all I know is that whatever it is; it's wrong!" said Elise.

"I'm in the number one girl profession of all time, Elise, men are my game. No psychologist, unless she's been a prostitute, knows more about the subject than someone like me. And I'm here to tell you, Elise, that what men think, and what they feel is most important, is not the great mystery of life that you seem to think it is.

"Men are very fragile creatures if the truth be known. Men think that how and what we women think of them is the most important thing in the world. Wanna hurt 'em? All you have to do is sneer at them, or laugh at them—or—tell them they're worthless in the sack. Their egos are almost certainly lost forever if a woman lays any of the three on them," said Sandy. "And Elise, to some degree you hit Harvey with all three. We definitely have a chore ahead of us."

******

Talking to the prostie, got me to thinking about the miserable situation I was in—as if I hadn't almost every day as it was. Fucking her got me a deal of relief in the thinking about it too. God she'd been good. Maybe that was gonna be my path out of my years' long funk. Just do it with Sandy, or someone like her, and pay the money. Others have. Why not me, I thought. What was special about me—fucking nothing, as I have been more than assured by my sometime wife. I looked at my watch; my advisor was late.

"Hey, bud, whatcha got for me?' said Molly. "Hey, you're smiling. What's going on?"

"Well, last night was kind of a mark-the-calendar kind of night, if you get my drift," I said.

"Pussy! You got pussy last night. You did didn't you?" said Molly.

"Yes!" I said, a little too emphatically. "Well, I kinda did anyway."

"Kinda did? What's kinda did? Was your dick inside of a woman?" asked Molly.

"Well, yes, of course, but..."

"But?" said Molly.

"It was with a prostitute—a nice one though," I said.

"You paid for it? You paid for a prostitute?" said Molly. It was clear she was a little disappointed in me.

"No-no-no. She did it with me, and she is a prostitute; but, it was free," I said.

"Really? That's sounds—odd. Are you two an item? Is there more to this little happening?" said Molly.

"Well, no, and yes. We met here at the Hard Hat. She made me an offer, if you get my drift. I said no. Then, somehow, we got to talking. I told her about my situation; she felt sorry for me I guess. So I got a freebie. Molly, I have to tell you, I was grateful. I knew it was the very definition of a mercy fuck, or maybe a pity fuck would be closer to the right way to say it; but, I loved it and she didn't make me feel like a loser. Molly, I needed that; I mean I really needed that.

"As for us, she and I, being an item, no. I wouldn't say it was anything like the start of something like that. Maybe if I were to see her again; well, I just don't know. And, anyway, she was a pro doing a potential John a good deed. Would a woman with that much experience wanna saddle herself with a loser like me? I don't think so," I said.

"Was she even single?" said Molly. "How did she react when you two were naked together?"

"You mean when she saw my equipment, right? She was okay with it I guess; said she'd seen smaller. And, no, she's single. At least that's what she told me. Never been married." The look on Molly's face was one of doubt.

"Molly? Something wrong? Did I do wrong? I mean I really needed what she did for me..." I said.

"No-no. It's just—I've known some pros in my day. And on a rare occasion a few of them have given out a freebie or two. But, almost none of them would be sharing their innermost secrets and personal lives with a stranger they just met, and especially one with your kinda baggage. But, I guess there's always a first time," said Molly. I nodded.

"Anyway," said Molly, "you gonna go back to your state of depression or was your friendly local pro able to shake you out of it?" Her saying that to me made me realize that I didn't know what I was going to do. I had been in a semi-euphoric state for almost twenty-four hours. The question now was: now what?"

I looked at her. "I don't know?" It was Molly's turn to nod.

******

After my talk with Molly, I understood that I indeed did want to see Sandy again. But, I also realized that I had not gotten her phone number. I really was a loser, I thought. Any other man—and I do mean any other man—would have gotten that without the slightest doubt. I wanted to kick myself.

******

While my self-deprecation was more than justified and deserved, the good luck, as I saw it, that was about to manifest itself, was not.

For the first time in a long time I was early. I figured to have a beer or two before I began my shift.

I was sitting at the bar when she slid on to the stool beside me. "How are you doing, Harv," said a very pretty Sandy. "Haven't heard from you or seen you around."

I had to smile at that. "I had no way to get in touch with you," I said.

She smiled and placed her hand atop mine. "Yeah, I figured as much. As many things as we said to each other last we met, we spoke very little about our situations: jobs, contacts, anything like that," she said. "You're here tonight though. This your regular hangout?"

I was surprised. She didn't know. "Yes, and no," I said. I work here—midnight to eight in the morning—seven days a week," I said. Her look was neutral.

"Work here? What do you do at those hours?" she said.

"Janitor slash security guard," I said. "I've actually got a little room here in the back."

"Really?" Her look now was one of interest if not actual concern. "I remember when we were—done—after our evening together, that you'd mentioned something about being a computer expert or something. I naturally thought..."

"I am—was. After my breakup with my wife; well, I just couldn't seem to get it together. You know; we did talk about that, I remember that. Anyway, I wound up here. It suits me for now. Has for the last year plus," I said. She nodded and pushed a slip of paper over to me; it was her phone number.

I looked at it and up at her. "Does this mean what I hope it means," I said. "I mean, Sandy, I still don't pay for; well, you know." She laughed. "I mean, maybe in your case—I might..."

"No, for you there is never going to be any charge. Believe it or not, you did it for me. Your tenderness and attitude made me want to see you again." She paused. "On the flip side, Harvey, I don't want you to get the idea that I'm an easy lay: just a way to get your rocks off. Yes, I do it for money, but apart from that world, from business, I'm the same as any other woman."

I know my brows knitted. I didn't know what to say to that. So, I said the only thing that made any sense at that moment. "Okay, that's cool with me," I said. She saw what must have appeared a look of disappointment on my face as I spoke.

She laid her hand once again on mine. "Harvey, I am not saying you can't ever have me. It's just, well, you have to earn your way inside of me. 

"The last time we were together I was your therapist. Next time, Harvey, I will be your date. I mean if something like that appeals to you. I know you've been hurt. And while I don't agree that you reacted wisely to your wife's words and actions, I do understand why you did what you did. I intend to be very gentle with you, mister. Anyway," she pointed to the slip of paper I was still holding in my hand, "that is a bona fide offer." I nodded.




Elise and Harvey Barrios



"Okay, okay," I said very softly. She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.

"I have to go. I only dropped by to see if you might be around. I'm glad you were. Please, Harvey, call me," she said.

"You have to go?" I said. I wasn't quite whining.

She hesitated, tendered me a wan smile. "Yes, I do, Harvey. It's business; I mean, you know."

"Oh-oh, yes of course. That's fine. I'll call. I will," I said.

She was gone before I could react to her having been there, to any of it. A prostitute for a girlfriend. How was I going to get my head around that.

Elise was a gold plated whore, no question about that, but she was not a "screw for pay professional." How was I going to rationalize being the boyfriend, if that's indeed what I would be, of a fuck for hire slut? 

******

"Was he there?" said Elise.

"Yes. And, I gave him my number. He'll call. He is still wrestling with his demons, but he'll call. He likes me," said Sandy.

Elise looked long and hard at her friend. "You did tell him that there'd be no more freebies, no more fucking you, right?" 

"Yes and no. I told him that there was not going to be a fuck fest every time that we were together. That I didn't just spread for every boyfriend I had. I told him a man has to earn the right to screw me. Or, words to that effect," said Sandy. 

"Was that the best you could do? I want him back, Sandy. I need him. He just doesn't understand my ways."

"Elise, you need to get a grip too. You're out there screwing the entire neighborhood. He's gone so long without any that he's practically a reborn virgin. You did that to him. I know you didn't mean to, but you did. He needs to get some of his self-confidence back.

"If our little plan to get you two back together is going to work, we've got to stick to it. He has to want to seek you out and start the process. He will never be at a place to do that if he doesn't have at least some degree of confidence in himself and in his worthiness as a man," said Sandy. Elise nodded. 

"I suppose you're right. I don't know if I—we—are doing the right thing, Sandy, but I am determined to at least try to undo the damage that I've done to him if I possibly can. I may be a round heeled slut, but I am not a bad person. 

"And, what I told Harv four anf five years ago is still true. He is the only man for me in every way but one. It's one of those things like, you know, when you invest yourself psychologically in someone, you just can't break the ties no matter what. That's me, and that's Harv. We are a pair him and me. I've just got to get him to know it," said Elise.

"Yes, you are a pair, Elise, yes you are."

******

During the next days, I met with Molly regularly. I needed advice and she was my advisor. If she weren't so tied up with wishful thinking about her husband; well, she would be one heckuva replacement for the woman that destroyed me. Molly actually liked me.

"Get yourself to the gym, Harv, and stick with it. Go to the one I go to. We could be gym mates," she said. "You're in decent shape with all of the jogging, but you need more."

"Me at the gym, Molly? What would be the point? I'm forty-two, not exactly over the hill, but it seems a little late to be competing with Arnold," I said.

"Hah? Compete with body beautiful? Hell no. Just get into fighting shape and learn a few things." I didn't realize it right then, but she'd meant exactly what she'd said and then some. "The one I go to also features dance lessons and self-improvement classes. It would do you good. Like I said, we could do it all together," she said.

"Me dance? The gym thing—well—you may have a point with the gym thing, but..." I said.

"Never mind, just do what I say. I need a dance partner and could use a male workout partner too. Okay?" she said.

"Molly, I don't know. It all sounds good, but—well—I ain't makin' much money. You know. I mean—well—I get by, but there's not much left at the end of the week."

"Well, pardon me for being obvious, but about how long is it going to be before you take care of that little matter. You can get a better job, Harv. You just have to make up your mind to do what you have to do to keep it," she said. "Talk to your favorite prostie about that. I'm sure she'll tell you the same thing that I'm telling you."

She was right. I was my own worst enemy. I needed to get it together. Maybe it was my night with Sandy. Maybe it was a combination of Molly and Sandy and just the passage of time: but it was high time I got my act together, as she was suggesting. I had to get myself a job, a real job.

"You're right, Molly. I'll start looking tomorrow." I knew just where I was going to start looking too. Maybe my hunt wouldn't be too long in the doing of it.

******

I met Molly in the parking lot, and we proceeded inside.

"Molly, I hope that the pace in there won't be too much for me; I'm not a teenager anymore. Aerobically, I guess I'm in okay shape, but the iron thing..." I said. She laughed.

"Harvey, you'll be fine. The pace will not be too much for you. Although later, as you get stronger and everything, you'll probably be pushing yourself to where I will be telling you to slow down a bit. At any rate that's been my experience."

We were no more than inside the door than we were met by a big man with a ready smile.

"Harv, this is Mike, the owner," said Molly. I liked the guy immediately. But, I did have a not so secret concern. Molly knew about it, but she had the class to say nothing and let me take care of it myself.

"Hi Mike," I said, I paused. "Mike, Molly has told me a lot about the place. But, I gotta tell yuh, as a dancer—well—I ain't never been much. Two left feet doesn't even begin to describe me: maybe two left feet with one of them having a twisted ankle," I said, trying to laugh but meaningfully so. Now Mike laughed.

"Never fear, Harv, you'll be fine. I can't tell you how many guys have come in here with two twisted ankles if you get my meaning.

"Molly says you're her friend, and any friend of Molly's is definitely a friend of mine."

After the greetings and the signing up, I was treated to the tour by the both of them.

I wasn't in the worst of shapes by a long shot though I was a little on the thin side anymore, maybe around 140, down some twenty pounds from my former max. That said, I hadn't been to any kind of gym, well, since high school, and this one: Mike's Gym and Health Spa, was a whole lot different than the one at Central High School. The only weights were one pound fist weights, kinda like dumbbells but too small to claim that title.

There were ropes to skip, bags to punch—or kick, and numerous benches and giant beach balls to do various kinds of exercises on, or so I supposed. A number of patrons—men and women—were working out as we toured.

The place had two giant rooms, and a third one, was a kind of dining hall meeting room combination. I wondered at the last of the three rooms because there didn't appear to be a kitchen to prepare food for potential diners.

I was a bit upset with Molly. She'd lied to me. Mike took a personal interest in me for my first workout and damn near killed me. So much for Molly's promise of not too great a pace for me in the early going: she'd totally lied about that. We'd be talking!

******

Before joining the gym, I'd called in a favor: one sort of owed to me, that in spite of my previous bad behavior. Captain Dorsey was initially reluctant, but he'd relented. I was dry, and he was experienced enough to see that; and, add that to the fact that I had, what appeared to him, a new interest in things feminine—I'd told him about Molly and Sandy; and again, add to that the further fact that he owed me kind of a big favor—one I had never collected on; well, all of it added together decided him. I got my old job back. They had replaced me early on, but the guy who'd done so, had recently contracted cancer and had just retired on medical disability. My timing, for once, was good.

"Harvey, You're work was always first rate when you were here. I just hope you're back to your old pre-Elise problems self. And, yes, I know I owed you for bailing me out that time when I screwed up and our systems were hacked.

"But Harvey..."

"Captain, I know. It won't happen again. I've put the worst of my pain behind me, mostly due to the women I told you about; and I am ready to be an effective employee of this department," I said. He nodded.

"Good. See you Monday, Harvey. And don't be late. I have to tell yuh, I'm gonna be a bit nervous. Okay?" he said.

"I won't be, Captain, depend on it."

******

"You saw him last night?" said Elise.

"Yes, we went out to dinner. And, before you ask, we made out some in the back seat of the car..."

"What! You said you weren't going to..." screamed Elise.

"Calm down. No. We didn't do the dirty. We just did a bunch of kissing and touchy feely. Clothes stayed on. Okay," said Sandy. Elise stared at her.

"He's mine, Sandy. Don't torpedo me, okay. Eventually, I want him back. I mean it, Sandy. If our friendship means anything to you..."

"Yes-yes, I know. But, I couldn't just not do anything with him. I mean he's fucked me. He knows I ain't no nun for goodness sakes!" said Sandy.

"Okay, I guess you're right. It's just, well, I'm a little jealous, I guess. I do love him so. He always made me feel safe and wanted and, well, kinda good. I don't know how to explain it," said Elise.

"Yes, he is a nice guy. And, I hope you do eventually get back together, if only to make my life simpler," said Sandy. "But, I reiterate, I doubt it's gonna be happenin' unless you can forget the train load of cocks you say he still has to contend with. That, dear girl, and pull off the impossible and rebuild his male ego." 

Elise looked at her friend and sighed. "Yes, I know; I know all of it," she said.

******

At my first dance lesson, a private one with Molly, the instructor smiled when he saw my clumsy efforts. Jason Hill was gay, thirty pounds overweight, and one very accomplished dancer. 

"I know, I know," I said. "It'd be easier to turn a donkey with shin-splints into a race horse than me into a ballroom dancer. But, Molly here..."

"You're gonna be fine Mr. Barrios," he said. "It's going to take a little time, but we'll get you to where you are darn good." His smile was disarming. 

It did take a while. The good news was that, after some six months of thrice weekly lessons; and a fierce half hour of practice every night at home; and after an immoderate number of corrections from my mentor, Molly; I was actually getting good—not just okay, but good.

Still, it was a fact that the gym was more my cup of tea. I had been more than astute in noting from the gitgo that this wasn't just some muscle room. Mark Tilden, the everyman's primary coach in the gym annex, was an ex-lightweight contender, a pro contender. I was learning how to box. My hands, I discovered to my more than very surprised self, were flashing fast. Forty-two years old and finally becoming a real man—go figure. I woke up one day and realized that my confidence was almost to the point of making up for the total destruction of my ego by Elise. I wondered what she'd think of me now, well, if she knew. Helluva thing. 

******

It was a big place, the dinner club, The Iverson Gardens. The IG boasted a ten piece dance band situated across from a semi-circle of four-person dinner tables that surrounded the largish dance floor. The IG wasn't exactly high class, but it felt like such to me. At any rate, Molly and I were about to test the waters in public, in a more or less big way, for the first time. We'd done a little dancing at a few sawdust joints, but nothing like this; here, ties and blazers were the norm.

I'd actually invited Sandy—with Molly's permission of course—to come along, but she'd declined, pleading prior planned business engagements. Her unavailability disappointed me; I wanted to show off a little; I was pretty damn good, that is Molly and I were.

The room was crowded. Even so, we were hardly more than seated before a pretty waitress asked us about drinks. It being a kind of special occasion for us, we opted for champagne.

We were among the first on the dance floor. We were so caught up in the music and the dance that we did not notice the pair of eyes trained on us from the far back of the hall. 

We did well, Molly and I, and I made a note to make a habit of this kind of evening out. It beat the heck out of movies and television and that on a number of levels.

It was near midnight when I pulled us up in front of her apartment. I walked my very good and lovely friend to her door and kissed her. She looked askance at me.

"Dear heart, that was for giving me the most fun evening I've had in years—literally," I said.

She smiled at me, "Well, I'm more than glad it was so much fun for you mister because we will be doing it again." And she kissed me back. There was something in the way she kissed me, but I was afraid to dwell on it—let it be, I told myself.

On the ride back to my place I half wondered what it would be like to do more than trade spit with Molly. True we had agreed to an essentially platonic relationship in view of our complicated relationships with our spouses—more hers than mine—but I wondered nevertheless.

******

"You were there? You shadowed them?" said Sandy.

"Yes, I was there the whole time. He was with that Molly woman," said Elise.

"No need to worry about her," said Sandy, "the two of them have an agreement. According to Harvey, she's still madly in love with her errant husband."

"Maybe, but they sure looked to be having a lot of fun out there on tha dance floor."

"I'm sure they were. It's not illegal to have fun on a dance floor. I've had a little fun with him at the Hard Hat just doing a little impromptu trippin'. He is a pretty good dancer," said Sandy.

"Hmm, so you've said. But, he's a lot better than he used to be—a lot better than pretty good," said Elise. "He's almost good enough to make me forget Darrell's cock," she giggled, "for a little while anyway."

"Sandy, I think it's time we made our move. You up for it?" said Elise.

"Yeah, maybe. I think you may be right. I'll see if I can get him to take me out. I'll almost let him have me again, and then stop and remind him of what and who he really wants and needs. 

"If he goes for it. If he'll talk to you with an open mind, well, it'll be all systems go as those astronaut fellows are always saying," said Sandy. "But, Elise, you have to be very careful with this man of yours. His ego cannot take anymore trashing, not even by accident."

"I know. I am very well aware of that now. But, it's been so long. He's been so long without—I mean except for the one time with you. He's got to be ready for me by now; I mean don't you think?" said Elise.

"If it were any other man, I'd say yes. But that man of yours is a very special case. I'll say it again, may very well have to rethink your ways and become a one man woman forever. Really, Elise, I'm thinkin' it's either gonna be that or you're going to have to forget him and hang with Darrell or someone like him instead." Her friend didn't respond, but she did nod.

******

"Well, if it isn't handsome," said Sandy. I was kinda startled to see her. It was Sunday night and I knew she usually took Sunday off of her busy schedule.

"Well, hello back atcha, girl. It's been a while. I thought maybe you'd gotten married or something," I said smiling the smile of the confident and almost happy. "Whatcha doin' here on a Sunday anyway." 

"Nuthin' big, well, lookin' for you actually," she said. "You seem chipper for a guy eternally down in the dumps. Something new in your life that I'd be tickled to hear about?"

"Hmm, yes and no. Not a woman exactly, more a life change because of a woman—actually two women," I said.

"Two women. Sounds interesting. Do tell," she said.

"Well, you helped me, and I want you to know that. I shall always be grateful to you for that. You were the one that kinda broke the ice for me. Then, there's Molly, you know, the gal I told you about," I said.

"Yes, I remember. Is she the one for you now?" said Sandy. "Are you turning a corner?"

"No, no, but she's got me out and doing now. I think I told you; I've been going to the gym and taking dance lessons. Plus, I've got my old job back and I'm saving money. I still kinda sorta work here at the Hard Hat too. I still do the nightly cleanup which takes me a couple of hours, then I just hit the hay in the back. Mac doesn't pay me the seventy-five bucks anymore, but I got free rent and utilities for being a kind of passive security guard during the wee smalls. I mean, if someone breaks in, I'll know it and report it: I just have to press the silent alarm button next to my bed.

"Wow! You have made some changes. I think I remember a few months ago, you did mention that you'd been going to the gym, but dancing? I think you might have left that one out," she said, smiling like she was sure I had had an ulterior motive. 

"Well, it's not something I'm real good at if you know what I mean," I said.

"You and I have danced a little before; I didn't think you were all that left footed," she said.

"You're being kind and we both know it, but I'm a bit better now than then," I said.

"Anyway, what can I get you. You do want to have a drink with me don't you?" I said.

"Bloody Mary, if that's okay," she said. I signaled to Jake.

Drinks downed, come-ons by her exploited, we made our way to what I assumed to be her new local lair.

"New office?" I said with a straight face. She smiled.

"No, it's my real home. You're not a customer, so you get to see the real me," she said. I raised my eyebrows at that. I wondered what the night was going to hold.

Inside, she told me to have a seat and she disappeared into the kitchen. She reappeared moments later handing me a Lite. "I'll be back in a few. Need to change," she said. I wondered why she had to change: she looked great in her skirt and blouse. Those along with her spikes really didn't need replacing in my view.

She was gone maybe five minutes. Back, make-up renewed, and wearing a lacy, lilac teddy all of my concerns and questions were cleared up and answered. Oh, and she still had her heels on.

"Fuck! You're beautiful," I said. She seemed to appreciate my appreciation.

"Well, thank you. I do clean up pretty good if I do say so myself."

We kissed gently and our hands roamed where they would. It was a nice beginning. She slowly stripped me and pushed me naked back onto the couch. She knelt between my legs, and just before she began to suck, she said the words that I shall likely never forget.

"God, Harvey, you might be a dinky-dick but you do have a cute one." My stone hard cock died in that instant. She gave me a questioning look.

"What did you say?" I said.

"Harvey?" she said.

"Only two others have ever called me dinky-dick to my face: both lovers of my wife. I could see the color drain from her face.

"Oh my," she said.

"You heard Elise call me that—behind my back—didn't you. That's evidently her favorite name for me. You know her don't you. This is some kind of weird-ass set up isn't it?" I said. 

She stood and moved to the window across the room; the curtains were drawn, thank God, I didn't need any passersby seeing me just then, night time or not.

"Elise loves you. She wanted me to get you to the point where the two of you could talk it out and get back together. I was supposed to get on your good side and urge you to go to her.

"Harvey, it was all a good thing if not exactly an up front thing, if you know what I mean," said Sandy. "You really owe it to yourself to talk to her. We blew it, or, I did; but you should at least see her. It's been long enough and you clearly love her—her quirks and all."




Elise and Harvey Barrios



"Quirks?" I said. "Her fucking everything in sight is a quirk? Interesting choice of words."

"For the record she's actually not fucking around like she used to. She has a boyfriend, actually kind of a good guy. Name's Darrell. He doesn't love her though, nor she him. They just hang together for sexual release and to pay the rent and such." That answered my question as to how Elise was getting on financially, but I'd figured it had to have been something like that.

"I really think that she's at a point where she could be a one man woman if given the chance," said Sandy.

I had been putting my clothes on as she spoke. I stood and looked at her: a good looking whore for sure. It might have been nice. "Goodbye, Sandy. Have a nice life." She didn't turn around as I exited her place.

******

Back in the dumps? No, well not like before. I was a whole new man thanks to Molly—and I'd have to say it—the Sandy I thought I knew. If she'd been devious, she'd also been helpful in getting me to think about living, really living, again. I owed her that.

And what was that she'd said at the end: that I owed it to myself to talk to my wife. Hah!, now there was a thought. Like we hadn't talked it out before! Well, yeah, but that was before the new me.

And what had Molly said: essentially that I should get my head out of my ass and do something one way or the other, words to that effect.

Was Sandy telling it straight when she'd said that Elise was no longer doing the mass of humanity? And, even if she weren't, did it mean anything in terms of how I should deal with her, Elise?

All of these thoughts were swirling around in my head as I sat sipping my wine.

"Hi big guy. Been a couple of days. You can't let your gym days slide, Harv," said Molly, as she slid onto a stool beside me.

"Oh, hi Molly. No, I won't. Just had a lot on my mind these past couple of days. I'll be going back tonight, I said. Plus, work's been kinda piling up. I'll be fine," I said.

"Uh-oh, sounds like you've got woman troubles again. Wanna tell?" she said.

I explained the whole schmear to her, and she nodded her understanding. "Your friend Sandy was right about one thing, Pardner, you are at the point where it might be a good idea to talk to your woman. I mean what can it hurt," she said. "Get it resolved once and for all." Her words decided me. But her next words more or less undecided me.

"There's something else I have to tell you about, it's about my husband, Millard," said Molly.

I was all ears. "Yes, of course. What?" I said expectantly. I was certain the idiot had decided that what he had had, was better than anything else he could get gallivanting around, and had come begging Molly to get back with him.

"He's filed for divorce. He showed up last night with his sweet young thing on his arm, believe it or not, and laid it on me," she said.

"Oh," I said. "Jesus, Molly, I am so sorry. I know you were hoping—well—hoping for a different outcome. Honey girl, no matter what else happens, I'm there for you. We're a team you and I," I said.

"Helluva note," I said, "the two of us sure have gotten a ton of stuff from our significant others. I can just imagine what's gonna happen once I talk to Elise. Jesus!"

I put my arm around my friend and comforted her as best I could. I asked her to spend the night at my place; she accepted. Neither of us had any intention of doing anything adventurous; it was just a case of a damsel in distress needing a knight errant to cling to and to protect her. 

Molly and I hung out together for the next several days. She'd been there for me, now I was determined to be there for her.

******

It was the following Saturday, I was called in to work because of some glitch in the system. I had it under control in less than two hours. But I did hang around for a bit to run some final tests to make sure the system didn't go down again. Captain Dorsey caught up with me as I was about to head out.

"Got a minute, Harv," said the Captain.

"Uh, yeah, sure, Captain," I said.

"Let's go downstairs and get a cup if you're up for one," he said.

Seated, coffees in front of us, he leaned back and yawned. "Long week. How you doin' now you've been back a while, Harv?" he said.

"Good, Captain, good. No complaints," I said. He looked down seeming to find something interesting in the bottom of his cup.

"How's your love life, Harvey. I wouldn't ask, but I want you to be okay. I know you look okay, and your work has been up to your old standards; still, I know how a divorce can hurt a man—or a woman," he said. "I hated having to fire you that first time. I mean we were and are friends."

"Captain, I'm fine. A woman, actually a couple of women helped me get my head out of my ass. I'm fine now really," I said. 

"Actually, there is another reason, I wanted to talk to you too," he said. "As it happens the same thing that happened to you has just happened to me."

"Jesus!" I said.

"Yes, Gloria dumped me. For some young stud, actually. I should have seen it coming, but—well—I didn't. I was served yesterday."

"Captain, I'm sorry. I know, believe me I know, how that can be for a guy." He nodded.

"Well, I don't know why I unloaded on you like this. I guess I just wanted to share with someone who knew the game," he said.

"Yeah, that's important. One of the women that helped me out is an prostitute; she knew how to talk to me and get me by the worst of it. A good woman, don't get me wrong. And, I have never had her—I mean paid for her. She and I were friends—sort of," I said. "I did have her, but as a kind of semi-girlfriend. I mean I had her for free."

"Hmm, I should be so lucky as to meet someone like that. But, prostitution is against the law..."

"You know, I might be able to set you up with her, captain. But, you'd have to promise to overlook her job description. You'd not be compromised the way I'd set it up," I said. "There'd be no offers of sex for money. She's just a good and well meaning friend."

"Harvey, I'm retiring at the end of the month. There'd be no problem with this woman, I mean if it were not a business proposition. I will not break the law," he said.

"Let me say wow, if that's all right!" I said. "I wish you all the best. And, uh—uh—I'll see if I can set you up. She really is a good woman, just a little too—uh—liberal, I guess one might say."

"Like I said, I'd be lucky to meet someone like that. Yeah, go ahead; see what you can do," he said. I nodded.

Next things next, I told myself. And the next thing was a meet up with Elise, maybe the final one—maybe not.

******

"What can I get you, miss?" said the waitress.

"Uh—I'm waiting for a friend," said Elise. The waitress looked at her, nodded, and then seemed to look beyond or behind her. Elise turned to see what the attraction was. "Harvey!"

"Yeah, it's me. Friend?" I said.

"Oh, just a figure of speech. I mean it's been so long and all. I didn't know how you thought of me..."

"Never mind, Elise, it's okay. So—here we are. Why, I'm not sure, but here we are," I said. She looked down. She was pretty; I knew that that would never change.

"Harvey, we're here—I'm here—to try and get us back together again."

"Hmm. And, your thoughts on that matter would be what?" I said.

"Well, since we've opposing views on how our marriage should go. I was thinking that we could—well—you know sit down, like now, and see if we could reach a compromise of sorts," she said.

"A compromise?" I said. "And how would I be compromising? You know I am not going to be some kind of second fiddle husband, Elise. I mean I am stuck in my ways about that. I need to be the only man in my woman's life. 

"And, then there is the problem of my nothing dick. How are you going to be able to compromise on something that is obviously vitally important to you. Doesn't seem like we have much of a chance of compromising on anything of consequence here, Elise," I said.

"Weeeell, I have one suggestion that I'm hoping you might be willing to consider, Harvey. And this is not the same old thing. This is new, a new idea."

"Really. A new idea? Gonna change everything that's happened. You are a heck of an optimist, Elise. How do you figure you can get me to go along with you having boyfriends?" I said. She smiled. It was clear she thought she was going to be able to sell me on what she had in mind.

"Let's say, I promise to try and be a faithful one man woman."

"So far so good," I said. "But? There is a but, right, Elise?"

"But, if the time comes when I just can't—well—do without, I come to you for permission to let another man do me. That would keep the occasions that I do anything like that down, because you'd be controlling them, have veto power over any would be boy toys. How would that be?" she said. I stared at her for a long minute.

"Permission. My permission?" I said.

"Absolutely," she said. "You say no, and the guy ain't happenin'."

"Two things, Elise. I came here to see you, talk to you because two interesting women said that I should if only to get a degree of closure with you. And, as they said, to see if there was anything left for us. One of them it turns out you know—Sandy." She looked down.

"I did ask Sandy to help. She's an old friend, and she knew—knows—stuff: how to handle sticky relationships and such. I never intended for you to find out about her, but even if and though you did, the bottom line is I did it to save us," said Elise. "That has to count for something."

"It did and it does. Your motive in bringing Sandy into the mix was okay. And, although, initially, I was more than a little miffed when I figured it out, I don't hold it against you or her. Still, were meandering off the subject here.

"Problem number one, Elise, is the fact that you had Sandy sandbag me by fucking me, not talking to me. Because of that night with her I began to like her—a lot. I was feeling like a man again. Then, she slammed the door in my face, if you get my drift. That I did not like, and it showed me that you could not be trusted to change.

"Problem number two. What if I did accept your bizarre proposal. What assurance would I have that I actually would have veto power over your boy toys as you call them. I can see it now. You getting angry and trying to convince me that I was being unreasonable. To quote you, Elise: 'But, if the time comes when I can't—well—do without,' what then, Elise?" You gonna just back off and do without? I don't think so. You'll simply sneak around. You'll be careful, and maybe get away with it, but I'd know. Deep down, I'd know.

"What you are really proposing, Elise, is what you've proposed all along: that I let you have your cake and eat it too. Oh, you'd probably try to repair the damage you've done to my ego. Make damn sure I was never actually insulted or put down again. But, in the end, dinky-dick would still have to be satisfied with mercy fucks; they'd no doubt be mercy fucks with a smile, but still just mercy fucks, not something you'd have any difficulty doing without or care about in any meaningful way. No dice, Elise; I ain't buyin' what your sellin'," I said.

She started to tear up. "Elise, give it up. We can be friends, I guess; but more than that just isn't going to be happening. There is just no way, that I can conceive of, of you actually wanting me as a man, and that's what it would have taken for you to convince me. Have a nice life—really." I got up, threw money on the table, and left. I'd see Elise again, I knew, but the atmosphere would be totally different than it had ever been before; I knew it and now I think she knew it as well.

******

I suppose that deep down I knew all along that my feelings for my long time wife were on the decline and eventually would die. They finally had. The long time in the happening of it was a lesson to me. I blamed myself for not realizing that I really was fine, dinky-dick regardless. The stuff I'd learned talking to Molly, and ironically maybe even more talking to Sandy, had come home to me. I finally got it. 

The upshot was that Molly and I were finally an item. An item and a happy one. We worked out together at the gym, we danced a lot, even entering a few contests; we never won but we came in in the top ten a couple of times; we were actually pretty good.

It was an occasion of our dancing, that finally put the seal on all that had happened to me before, and, as it turned out, to Molly as well. It was what I can only describe as a perfect storm of coincidences.

"Who was that?' I said, as she hung up her cell. She did not look amused.

"My soon to be ex, Mr. Millard Cummings. He wants to come over here and talk to me. Can you believe it?" she said.

"Hell no I can't believe it. This is a dance club. We're, you and I, on a date. We are here to be entertained and to have fun. Your ex! Your fucking ex wants to come here? Why?" I said, my tone rising. I looked around and tried to calm myself.

"He got the divorce proposal from my attorney, and apparently, he is not happy with it. Not only is he not happy with it, but he wants to negotiate with me right now. He says he's leaving on vacation in the AM and doesn't want it hanging over his head," said Molly.

"I thought you'd already settled on all of that with him," I said.

"I had, but my attorney added in a couple of things, I guess. I didn't really care, but he said I was entitled to reimbursement for past monthly mortgage payments—Millard's half—even though he hasn't been living there for a long time. I'd been making the payments without him, but..."

"But the law dog said you're entitled regardless. That about it?" I said.

"Yes, exactly. I knew you and I would be getting married as soon as the big Ds were final for the both of us, and I just wanted the cheating asshole out of my life. 

"This is just the kind of shit he'd pull too. Figure to get me in a weak moment and maybe talk me into signing something or other. I'm betting a dollar he has a legal counter proposal with him when he arrives," she said.

"Why didn't you just tell him to fuck off?" I said.

"I don't know. His call was so bizarre. I just couldn't think fast enough, I guess."

"Yeah, well this is my date too; I'll take care of things when he gets here. Hell, he's lucky you haven't asked for a whole lot more than you have."

Thoughts relating to Millard Cummings suddenly took a back seat to another happening. 

"Honey," said Molly. "The door." She was staring past me toward the hall's entrance. It was Elise and that Harry guy I'd first caught her with ages ago. I thought again how big the guy was. That he was with Elise was a bit of a surprise. I thought that she'd been hanging out with that other guy—Darrell—but apparently good 'ole mister two-night-stand had improved his standing. He saw me staring at him and smiled. He said something to Elise. Her head literally snapped around and pinned me. She didn't smile, but she did stare for the briefest of moments, turned back to her date, said something to him; and they moved off toward the far side of the hall.

For the next half hour I guess I glanced in Elise's direct more than half a dozen times. Each time I caught her looking straight at me. I wondered what she was thinking. Molly for her part was not paying any attention to them—pointedly so; I had to assume that she was not happy with them being there and, as she likely saw it, intruding on us; well, she was smarter than I was.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the dance contest, our annual Halloween dance contest is about to begin. May those of you who will be participating please take the floor and warm up," said the night's impresario. The band struck up a fox trot and Molly led me out onto the floor.

The floor was full. Everyone wanted a shot at the trophy and the $1,000 grand prize. The best Molly and I had done was a sixth at a local contest; this was bigger. But, we had been practicing.

I saw Elise with his largeness moving to the beat pretty good. Harry seemed a little stiff to me, but Elise was trying, and more or less succeeding, in making him look good. I would like to be able to say that they were blown out in the first round, but that was not the case; they were, however, blown out in the second round. Molly and I were still alive.

The contest went on for the next hour with a brief rest of five minutes as a prelude to semis—the top ten teams. When they announced the semi-finalists, Molly and I were thrilled to discover that we'd made it.

Ten minutes later they announced the finalists, the top five.

"We did good, Molly. If we don't make it at least we beat those guys," I said, nodding toward Elise and good 'ole Harry. She smiled back at me.

The announcer began naming the names in no particular order. "And the final couple to make the finals is the team of Cummings and Barrios," said the man. I was stunned. It was the best we'd ever done. I couldn't help it; I glanced over toward Elise and her boy toy. I smiled broadly. To her credit she didn't send me a dirty look; she just nodded; it made me feel good.

The final round was a series of three dances: the chacha, the swing, and the jitterbug. I was best at the chacha, and good enough at the swing; but the jitterbug, that was my weakest dance, worse even than my samba. The good news was that Molly was good at all three.

When the smoke cleared we'd taken fourth place. Good enough for a small trophy, but out of the money. Still it was the best we'd done; we both felt pretty good. Well, we did until about half an hour later when the big man and myself happened to bump into each other at the bar—literally.

"Look the fuck out where you're going asshole," said Harry, sneering at me. "Oh, and quit staring at my girlfriend. Go it?"

"Take some of your own advice," Harold, I said. "And, I was not staring at your girlfriend as you call her." I had been staring, a little, but I couldn't admit it to this oaf.

He grabbed the lapel of my blazer and pulled me up on my toes. Then, as if disgusted with himself for messing with fry as small as me, he shoved me away from him. I hit the bar's edge pretty hard. Hard enough to make me mad.

"Well, Harry, it seems we want to be a tad on the physical side. I have to tell you, Harry, you've definitely made me angry," I said.

He let loose a small laugh and followed it up with an attempt to backhand me. I blocked it and sent a half dozen jab into his left eye; all but the last one landed. He stumbled back barely regaining his footing. His eye was already beginning to puff up, and there was a cut over it that was beginning to bleed pretty good. Hate filled his features. Then, he made his big mistake: he charged me full out.

I side-stepped him and caught him with a left hook to his xiphoid; everything I had was in it. He seemed to freeze in mid-stride. I didn't. A right hook to his left kidney, also delivered with everything I had, dropped him. His face was turning blue; he was totally unable to even truly to take a breath. The combination of his rush and the timing of my hook had done him serious damage. 

Elise came to the side of the man who had once trounced me. "Oh Harvey..." was all she could say. For a single moment I was the dragon slayer. The big man had fallen harder. 

A couple of guys in rent-a-cop uniforms separated us. Somebody purporting to be doctor knelt over the now gasping form.

"He'll be all right," said the medico. "But, his night of frolic is over."

There were enough witnesses to guarantee that I had responded in self-defense. Molly led me, more or less forcefully, back to our table. For the moment no one came to bother us.

It was my turn to look past my woman, my Molly. "That's him there isn't it," I said to her. She turned around.

Millard Cummings was looked toward the fallen giant and then back at me several times in turn. He was carrying a folder of some kind. But, he didn't approach us. Instead he turned and left.




Elise and Harvey Barrios



"That's strange," said Molly. "He wanted to meet with me, and now he's gone."

"Yeah, isn't it," I said, deadpanning. 

******

In spite of the medico's pronouncement that good 'ole Harry was going to be okay, he spent the night at the local hospital as we found out later.

Molly and I spent the rest of the night doing a little more dancing with her smiling the smile of a woman with pride in her man. I was feelin' real good, real sassy.

A few days later, Elsie came knocking. Molly answered the door.

"Miss Cummings, and yes, I know your name. May I speak with Harvey, and you of course," she said. Molly nodded her inside and called me.

I came into the room and I know for a fact that my face fell. "Elise! What are you doing here. We've had our final conversation," I said.

"I won't stay long, Harv. I just wanted to apologize for the way my asshole boyfriend acted the other night. For the record it is going to be quite a while before he gets over the humiliation of being put down and out by a man so much smaller than he is—bodywise, Harvey, bodywise!" She was clearly anticipating my anger at the double meaning in her words. I just nodded.

"He spent the night in the hospital, and it was a couple of days before he could take a breath without undue pain," said Elsie. "You got him pretty good."

"Well, tell him that almost makes us even," I said. "You may recall the last time we rumbled he pretty much did the same to me." Her turn to nod.

"Harvey, Molly, I hope you and I can be friends. I know what I put you through. I guess it's just a matter of who or what I am. I need certain things and I am selfish about going after them. I hope you understand," she said. I could feel my face cloud up; this time she noticed.

"Oh, Harvey, please, I am not putting you down. I am here in my humblest heart. I needed you so bad, and now I've lost the most important thing in the world to me. Anyway, I wish you both the best, and once again let me apologize to you for everything, my good man."

At that point Molly took over the conversation with occasional polite input from me. Elise cried a little, and Molly comforted her. We all shared a bottle of Chardonnay; and then she was gone, Elise was gone, and a new chapter in my life, all our lives began.

Our town isn't that big; I'd be seeing Elise again. We would remain friends, but only that, and really not all very close friends when it came right down to it.



Elise and Rod



Not all stories that start out with "Once upon a time" have happy endings. The characters do not necessarily live happily ever after as was the case in this one. It started as a fair tale that my wife tried to tell me, but unfortunately for her (or me – depending on how you look at it) I knew the game she was going to play.

Once upon a time there was a marriage planned. Elise and I had grown up together and it had always been expected, at least by our mothers, that we would marry when we were old enough. Our mothers were best friends since grade school, they had gone to college together, belonged to the same sorority and even thirty years after graduation the two of them were extremely close. My mom had married first and Elise's mom had been her maid of honor and then my mom performed the same function for Elise's mother. When I was born Elise's mother became my godmother and when Elise was born my mother became her godmother.

The day after Elise was born our mothers began planning our wedding. The families took vacations together, celebrated holidays together and for all practical purposes we may as well have been just one large family. Being young Elise and I had no inkling of what our mothers had in mind for us, all we knew was that we were close. It wasn't until we reached the age where boys start to be interested in girls and girls started looking at boys that we began to get some idea of what our moms had planned. If I became interested in a girl my mother found some way to break us up. If Elise became fond of a particular boy her mom managed to put a quick end to it. For school dances Elise and I always found ourselves maneuvered into going together. She was my date for my senior prom and I was her date for hers.

+++++

The break came when I graduated from high school and moved on to college. Elise still had one year of high school left so in effect we were separated and I was no longer where my mother could try and control my life although Elise was still where her mother could micro-manage hers.

Against my mother's wishes I opted for the full college experience. She had wanted me to live at home and attend classes, but I wanted to live in the dorms, join a fraternity and do everything else most young college students do. Mom tried to pressure me, but I was attending college on scholarships so she had no financial leverage.

Away from home and her influence I found girls and for the first time I could go some place and do something with a girl who wasn't Elise. I dated quite a bit and had a great time. I lost my cherry at a frat house gangbang and I even dated the girl who was that nights punch board. We hung together for almost two months before we each moved on to greener pastures. At a mixer I met the wife of one of the grad students who was a teaching assistant and while I was never sure of who seduced who, she did teach me to eat pussy and then was kind enough to spread the word that I not only did it, but was good at it. I became very popular after that and never went a weekend without a date that usually ended up in my bed or the girl's.

Life was good and then Elise graduated high school and came to college.

+++++

At first it was just a case of showing Elise around and introducing her to some people. She was living at home and quite frankly I didn't expect to se much of her. I thought she would embrace the freedom as I had and start dating guys, but she didn't. What she did was attach herself to me. Well, maybe not attach, but she was never far away. For the first month or so she just watched and then one day after I'd spent a weekend with a hot little redhead Elise said: 

"What do you see in her? She has the IQ of a grape."

From then on it was, "Why do you waste your time on her, she's a tramp" or " I know you have better taste than to spend your time with that pig." 

After about a month of that I finally said, "Elise, instead of hacking away at the women I date why don't you go find some guys and do your own dating?"

"I'm not interested in other guys."

"Why not, you turn lesbo or something?"

I got a very indignant "Of course not" from that.

"So what's the problem?"

"You."

"Me? How am I the problem?"

"You've always been the one for me. I don't want anyone else, I want you."

To shorten the story a bit the bottom line is that the mothers got the wedding that they had been planning since the day Elise was born.

+++++

Fast forward six years to the day I came home from work early. I'd had an appointment not far from the house and I decided to go home and not go back to work. It was a Friday and I thought that I would get a head start on the weekend. I heard the shower running as I came in the front door so I headed toward the stairs and then I stopped as I noticed something. A shoe, more specifically a 'Come Fuck Me' pump (right foot if I remember right) was on the bottom step. As I headed up the stairs I found the other shoe on the top step and two steps down the hall I saw a bra on the floor. Skirt and thong were on the floor just inside the bedroom door, but the major attention getters in the bedroom were the torn up bed, the box of Trojans on the bedside stand next to the tube of KY Jelly and the three used and tied off rubbers on the floor next to the bed.

My first impulse was to storm into the bathroom, pull Elise out of the shower, drag her into the bedroom, point at the evidence and then call her a whore. Following that I would drag her downstairs and throw her naked ass out of the house. But even as I was taking steps toward the bathroom a little voice in the back of my head was telling me to back off, to find out more. I wasn't going to find out what I wanted to know from Elise because now I didn't trust her. She had cheated on me so it was obvious that she would lie to me too.

I quickly and quietly left the house and found me a pay phone. The Yellow Pages gave me the number of a private detective and I gave him a call. He was able to see me that afternoon and I made a quick trip down to his office and told him the story. I agreed to his fees and handed him the keys to my house and then headed back home getting there at my regular time.

All traces of Elise's afternoon activities were gone and my freshly scrubbed wife met me at the door with a kiss. I know it was twisted of me, but I was curious as to how Elise would feel after having been fucked by someone else. I swept her up in my arms and as I carried her to the bedroom I said: 

"I want dessert first tonight. Dinner can wait."

Once in the bedroom I stripped and then I began to peel Elise. For some reason she didn't seem as enthused as she usually was and then I pulled her down on the bed and mounted her. The entire time I kept my eyes on her face and I thought I saw a touch of fear, the "Will he notice?" kind of fear and then a smidgen of "Does he suspect something?" The last one was probably brought on by a big change in our routine. I always ate her pussy before we made love, but not this time and she had to notice and it had to make her wonder. I was curious to see what she felt like, but no way was I going to eat her cunt after some other dude had just dumped in it.

She did feel different, but I couldn't put my finger on why. She had obviously douched because she wasn't wet and sloppy and she didn't feel loose, but something was different. What I did find out was what a sick fuck I was. The image of the bedroom – scattered clothes, used condoms, torn up bed – made my imagination run wild. What if instead of one guy doing her three times it had been three guys doing her once? A whole list of 'what ifs' wandered through my head and excited me to the point that I came a lot quicker than I usually do. 

The big surprise was when my dick started to go soft and then turned around and got stiff again before I even had a chance to pull out. I fucked Elise four times that night – fucked her, didn't make love, just fucked her – and we never did have dinner.

+++++

Saturday I took Elise out for dinner and a show and while we were gone the private detective used the key I had given him to enter our house and plant surveillance equipment. That night and Sunday I was I was after Elise like a starving man after food and the images in my mind kept my dick almost constantly hard. I kept remembering that torn up bed and those used rubbers and I remembered the gangbangs I'd participated in during college and I saw Elise on that torn up bed with eight or nine guys standing around waiting for a turn and it just kept me fired up. I think Elise might have been happy to see me go to work on Monday.

That week I fucked Elise every night when I got home from work, mostly to see if I could detect any evidence that someone else had already been there. Friday afternoon I was in the detective's office getting his report: 

"His name is Rod Mallory and he is an unemployed aircraft mechanic. He arrives every day around noon and is there until about three-thirty. If he followed his regular schedule he is probably there right now. I'll need you to get your wife out of the house tomorrow so I can get my equipment and then around the middle of the coming week I'll be able to give you my final report."

As I rode the elevator down from his seventh floor office I noticed that I wasn't as fired up to get home as I had been since Monday. It was as if putting a name to the man who was fucking my wife had turned off the eroticism that had been raging in my head since the day I had found out Elise was an unfaithful slut. I don't know, maybe it was the fact that I had been getting seconds (although not sloppy) all week and not being able to tell that turned the switch off. Whatever the reason, the fire had gone out.

When I got home I found Elise waiting, expecting me to drag her off to the bedroom and all I did was kiss her cheek and ask her what was for dinner. Saturday I took her to dinner and a show. We made love on a Sunday, but only because Elise initiated it and from then on we never had sex unless Elise pressed for it. I never said no, but I didn't go after her anymore.

+++++

Wednesday I got the full report from the detective, complete with audio and video and I went home to ponder the future. A review of the videotape and the audio from the telephone taps showed me that this Rod guy had been fucking Elise for almost six months. I had enough material to go for a divorce, but something was lacking. I wondered about it for a day or two and then I finally figured it out. Just taking what I had to a lawyer would end the marriage like a whimper. I wanted to go out with a 'bang'.

I got on the Internet and went looking for information. Over the next two days I gathered what I needed and then every time Elise left the house to go shopping or visiting her mother I worked on my project. It took me three weeks, but when I was through the house was wired for sound and video. I had a voice operated tape recorder on the phone, one in the living room and one in the bedroom. I had two nanny cams in the bedroom that fed directly to a dual VCR setup in my home office and one nanny cam in the living room that sent it's feed to a third VCR. Everything was either voice activated or motion sensitive.

The product was mixed. I got more video footage of Elise vacuuming the floors, dusting, washing windows and doing things around the house than I got of her and her lover and that footage was either junk or outstanding depending on the light level in the room at the time the footage was shot. I got better video in the living room because it had southern exposure, but they didn't do all that much in the living room. The bedroom windows had northern exposure and if the blinds were drawn I didn't get much useable. I got more than enough to take to a divorce lawyer, but I had that much from the private detective. Given the horrendous amount of money I had spent on the equipment I would have hoped for better – a lot better! 

The audio tapes though were a gold mine. I found out that Rod was pressing Elise to leave me and marry him. Elise kept putting him off and hen one day Rod told her she needed to shit or get off the pot: 

"You either love me or you don't. You either want to be with me or you don't, but you have to make up your mind because I'm tired of sneaking around to see you. I'm tired of just a couple of hours a day. I want nights, weekends and holidays – the whole nine yards! What's it going to be?"

I found Elise's response very interesting.

"You know I want you baby, or you wouldn't be here, but I want my hubby too. I love him and I don't want to leave him, but I want you too."

"Well, we are at a crossroads here babe; you obviously can't have us both, especially since I'm tired of sneaking around."

"Could you share me with him if he knew about us and accepted it?"

"How do you plan on working that little miracle?"

"Let me think on it lover. Oops, look at the time. You need to be going."

That was on a Friday. On the following Monday Rod brought it up again and Elise said that she had a plan:

"I'm going to work on him to let me have sex with another man."

"Ha! I'm sure that he will jump at a chance to do that."

"He might not jump at it, but there is a good chance that he might go along with it."

"You can't be serious. What kind of a man would go along with something like that?"

"A man who loves me and who is sure that I love him."

"No babe, I can't see it."

"Look, in college he was a stud. He had sex with twenty or thirty different girls, but I went to our marriage bed a virgin. I'll start working on him to let me try another man. I'll tell him I'm curious about what I've missed and I'll ask him if he will let me satisfy my curiosity. I'll keep working on him until he gives in and lets me do it. You'll be the other man and we will take it from there. Just be patient with me baby, give me some time to pull it off, okay"

Tuesday he asked her again how she was going to make it work.

"I'll fuck his eyes out and when he is exhausted and not thinking clearly I'll spring it on him."

"I still don't understand why you have to have the two of us."

"You don't really want to know."

"Yes I do."

"Okay, you asked for it. If you force me to chose between the two of you I'll choose my husband. I love him and I don't ever want to think about living my life without him. He is everything that a girl could want in a man and if he had your cock he would be one hundred percent perfect."

"Is that all I am to you, a bigger dick?"

"No silly, I do like you a lot, but I have to be honest, if it wasn't for your cock you wouldn't be here. Now, are you going to fuck me or pout?"

+++++

Being forewarned I was ready for Elise when she hit me with it. We had just spent an exhausting night having sex and Elise was cuddled next to me: 

"Honey, can I ask you a strange question without you getting mad at me?"

"Sure, I suppose so."

"Now think about this – don't just jump up and automatically holler no – do you love me enough and trust me enough to let me satisfy a curiosity of mine?"

"I don't know Elise, what are you fishing for?"

"Please don't take this wrong baby, I love you to death, I really do, but I've always felt that by staying a virgin until we were married I missed out."

"What are you getting at Elise?"

"Yours is the only cock I've ever had baby and I've always been curious what another one would be like."

"Let me get this straight. You want to fuck another man and you want me to agree to it and say it is okay."

"Yes."

"Is this your way of telling me you don't think I'm any good in bed?"

"Oh God no baby, don't think that. Didn't the night we just had prove that wrong? No, it is just curiosity on my part. I'm not ever going to leave you for anyone else. You had lots of girls before we got married so you got to see all the differences that there are in women, but you are the only man I've ever been intimate with. I would just like your permission to satisfy my curiosity."

"You already have a stud picked out? Maybe one of my many friends who are hot for you?"

"No honey, I don't want it to be anyone we know. If you say yes I thought we could drive up to Denver, hit a cocktail lounge and see if I can find someone I might like enough to let him get lucky."

"No strings? You get your strange cock and then we come home and forget about it?"

"Yes baby, just enough to satisfy my curiosity."

"When do you want to do this?"

"You'll let me? I can do it?"

"Why not. It isn't as if you are running around behind my back. Sure sweetie, go for it." 

"How about this coming Friday night?"

+++++

Friday when I got home from work Elise was all dressed up and ready to go. She looked sexy as all get out in her short skirt and high heels: 

"You shouldn't have any trouble getting laid in that outfit."

"I hope not. It will be a hell of a blow to my ego if I strike out."

As we drove toward Denver I asked her where she wanted to go and she said she didn't know for sure. 

"Just drive around baby and when I see a place that I think I might like I'll tell you." 

When we got to Denver I drove around deliberately avoiding the lounge that the tapes told me Elsie and Rod had settled on. I watched Elise get more and more nervous as we drove in circles. She desperately wanted things to look spontaneous to me, but I wasn't cooperating. I'd head in the right direction and then when I got within a couple of blocks of the place I would make a right or left turn and go off in the other direction. Finally I got tired of toying with her and headed for the place.

"There!" she said, as she pointed at Dino's.

"Why here?"

"There's a motel right across the street. When I do this I don't want it to be a quickie on the back seat."

I pulled into Dino's parking lot and as I parked a said, "Are you sure that you want to do this?"

"Yes honey, I'm sure. I want to know what another cock will feel like and I may never again get up the nerve to do it."

"Have you thought it all the way through? What happens if you decide you like it and want to keep on doing it? What will that do to us? What if he is a better lover than I am? What if he has a bigger cock and you decide you like bigger cocks and you decide to replace me?"

I thought I saw a flicker in her eyes when I mentioned bigger cocks, but it might have been my imagination.

"Don't be silly baby, I love you and you know I do. I'll never leave you for anyone else and you know it."

"Okay then, how are we going to do this?"

"We will go inside and get a table and I'll find someone I like the looks of and we will see what happens."

"What does that mean, see what happens?"

"I don't know baby, I've never done anything like this before. I guess we play it by ear and if I find a guy I like and he is interested in me and doesn't mind you watching we can go across the street to the motel and see what happens."

"What do you mean 'mind me watching'. I don't plan on doing that."

"You have to baby, that's the only way I can do it. You have to be part of it; any other way would seem like cheating on you."

"I don't think I can do that Elise."

"Sure you can baby, you can do it for me, I know you can."

"I don't know Elise, I guess we will just have to wait and see."

+++++

When we walked in the door I spotted Rod sitting at the end of the bar. We found a table and I ordered drinks and then Elise and I danced a couple of dances together. Elise got up to go to the bathroom and on the way back to the table a guy stopped her and asked her for a dance. Then he walked her to his table and introduced her to two of his friends and then all three of them danced with her. When she got back to the table she giggled and said, "I have at least three to choose from." 




Elise and Rod



I danced twice more with her and then it was my turn to go to the bathroom. When I got back to the table Rod was standing there talking with Elise. As I walked up to the table Elise stood up and said:

"Watch my purse sweetie, this nice young man asked me to dance."

I smiled and said, "Keep it clean," and Elise gave me a funny look as Rod led her away.

It was what I had been waiting for. I picked up Elise's purse and took out all her cash and credit cards and put the purse back down on the table. I took videotape out of my pocket and set it down on top of her purse. It was a copy of some of her meetings with Rod and I had tied a pretty red ribbon around it with a bow. I placed a card on top of it and then I got up and left. When they got back to the table and opened the card they would see that it said:

"Just a little something for your viewing pleasure as you and Rod start out your new life together. P.S. Don't bother calling me, it won't do you any good."